Blood, Soul and Magic
by CloudZzFluffyBedsOfWhite
Summary: What to do when the world around you seems to crumble? What to do when there are so many open bills left to be paid, but those you are ready to extract your dues from are all dead and you're left wanting? You plan. You plan to take it all back, you discard all notions of Gryffindor chivalry and let your Slytherin side out to play. Past here I come! * evil grin*
1. Prologue I

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, (though I really really wish I did.)

* * *

Former Scotland,

30 July 2107.

Blood spread on the barren cracked stone, as magic was heavy in the air. Stood in the center of a matrix of delicate interlocking lines and surrounded by numerous corpses he felt more alive than he had in years. There still as a statue amidst the corpses of seven of his brethren stood a man who had power rolling off him, barely contained it rippled off him distorting the air and stirring the raw magic of the ritual. The atmosphere seemed to twist and crumple around his form until it finally yielded. His heart quickened and beat strongly in his chest excitement racing through his veins as the air grew ripe with magic, blinding red light lit the world around him erasing the sight of the desolate world their once lush home had become. The thick scent of blood yielding to that of ozone as the exchange of energy was accepted and life blood converted to raw magic.

Through narrowed eyes the powerful man glanced at those lying closest to him, his brethren of magical blood, those that had fought loyalty by his side for decades. Taking back what had been taken from them and then some. Destroying one lauded, scientific advancement after the other until their enemies were a crippled shell of their former might, as they should be…

Seven, who would now never see what they had achieved with their last breaths and sacrifice. Seven he would dearly miss... he forcefully steadied his breath and steeled his resolve, locking his sadness and regret behind occlumency shields. He could not afford to get distracted now or their death would have been in vain. He refused.

No he was not a man of weak will and so continued his part of the ritual loyally, never faltering even as the all too familiar sounds of jets rent through the air and the whistling of rockets became loud as the parasites came crawling out of their holes determined to make a nuisance of themselves to the bitter last. Obstinately he soldiered on as shouts of his comrades became as they cursed and returned fire, the all too familiar screech of machineguns battling against their impenetrateable shields shredding the before silent afternoon. Really these muggles always had to be so loud, if he had his way they would soon be silenced, permanently.

He wished he could add his magic to the fight well aware he was by leagues the strongest magical left on earth, that he could wrench that wretched muggle contraption from the sky…but that was not his place anymore. So obstinately he carried on, focusing on his task even as the south went up in a fiery blaze of destruction and noise.

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Atlantic

Headquarters

16 hours earlier…

On the top floor of an obsidian stone building, deserving the title of the most secure place left on this former blue planet, a faint explosion could be heard muffled by the heavy duty wards and runes curved into the thick reinforced blocks of stone. No one was bothered by it because there was only one sole occupant and said person was the source of the noise. In a large dimly lit room, ruled by a sort of organised chaos. There were stacks of old books on many a surface, vials and other crystal containers lined the walls and one of the shelves was occupied by all manner of strange contraptions of metal, crystal and glass. Crates of gems of all matter were carelessly deposited in a corner, brimming with the likes seldom seen even at a jeweller.

There was no window, only two reinforced doors that were both firmly shut, yet that did not mean a lack of visibility. The room was thrown into a eerie light by the many luminescent liquids that rested forebodingly in their shelves, yes the multitude of archived vials throwing an ominous shine onto the surroundings that made one think twice about stepping out of the circle of light in the centre of the room, shining down on table underneath. The harsh light of the single lamp bore down sharply on the multitude of notes and contraptions that looked to be stolen from some alchemists of old, throwing the contents of the metal table in stark contrast to the mystic of the rest.

There working away with single minded focus was a man that fit so well into the bizarre laboratory that one could almost believe he belonged to the inventory. Clad in almost Victorian dress and looking more like a doll than a true flesh and blood human the man toiled away fingers flying with grace over the contraptions adjusting screws and valves as clear liquid travelled through the many glass pipes to steadily drip into a steaming standard size two pewter cauldron. Hair wild and slipping out of the confines of it's ribbon he pushed his slipping glasses back up his nose he straightened and picked up his quill to mark down the last few results. Yes the man truly lent credence to the whole mad scientist lab vibe the room had going, despite the delicate looks.

All in all it was a room that made one apprehensive to touch anything as intriguing and alluring the objects may be, something hung in the air to impress just how bad of an idea it would be to give in to such a desire. It was a toxic discomforting room that the man felt right at home in. The scientist itself was just as strange as all the other items and indeed the room itself. He wasn't tall nor was he small and despite his wrinkle free smooth skin there was no sense of youthfulness about him and instead a sense of matured age making guessing at the age an impossible endeavour. He possessed a lure that enticed people closer but those with sharp instincts could feel the danger that surrounded him like a cloak. One could liken him to a viper lazing in the sun, looking half dead and harmless yet capable to strike at a moments notice should the need arise. A sharp mind hidden behind a doll-like face.

Dipping the tip of the pipette into the faintly glowing blue liquid he carefully dripped two drops on a pre-prepared Petri dish and examined it under the microscope. The grin that stretched the lips after a long moment was as terrifying as it was unsettling.

With a cheerful hum he carefully marked the last vial and overlooked his notes for accuracy before packing them away the new acid in a secure box and the recipe and notes in his blood-bound lab journal.

Despite starting the project as a distraction it had proven to be surprisingly fruitful, he'd finally made the last break through and the acid he'd managed to concoct would work nicely in the future. It's inherent composition allowing it not only to kill but completely disintegrate any evidence, leaving behind no residue at all that can be traced while obliterating the matter down to it's molecules. A far safer method to erase things than using magic, the problem being that when you vanish things the object doesn't really disappear but is merely sent elsewhere where some idiot may stumble upon it. It was a problem he had worked on for years and had now finally completed. He may be unaccustomed to the newfound silence and emptiness in the tower but it definitely had it's uses; not once did someone forcefully break the wards and storm inside after there was a small explosion. Nor was there incessant banging on the door when they were refused entry.

(His minions somehow managed to overpower the most heavy duty silencers in existence, at least he already knew the next hurdle he had to topple; silencing wards just didn't cut it anymore. Maybe he should look into a collaboration with the goblins…)

No matter how many times he told them it was part of the third to last step the ingredients were volatile and had appropriate reactions when mixed together, what did they expect an acid of this magnitude to contain daffodils and sparkles?

He suppressed a snort.

With a flick of the wrist the workstation was sanitized and the vials found their place on the shelves. A last assessing glance a languid stretch that had his back pop he left the room with a content sigh.

For being such a slow morning it had been satisfyingly productive.

Marching into his office next door he let his eyes sweep the room with a cursory glance as his instincts demanded taking in the neat rows of books the group of armchairs and pile of pillows in the corner before sliding behind his desk in front of the oval two meter long window with it's two inch thick window pane that his minions had forced upon him. With a sigh he relaxed into his chair setting his journal on his desk before swivelling to stare out at the polluted world beyond these walls. Tired eyes taking in the world that was all the wrong colours, and far too lifeless to still be called earth. In the unflattering light of the true world outside even the illusion of his own perfection was stripped away.

Long silky, dark hair tied back in a ponytail with a acid green ribbon and large hypnotising eyes partly obscured by square glasses, cupid lips and high cheekbones, all were striking enough that one did not notice the imperfections at first glance. Faint silvery scars decorated the skin souvenirs of a rough life of strife and aplenty experiments that maybe should have been planned better or simply been forgotten upon conception. instead the gaze was drawn to the paleness of the skin and the impeccable clothing the collar of a pristine white shirt that was promptly loosened to show a hint of clavicles, the soot clinging to he tips of the fingers was overseen in favour of the carelessly graceful movement that was the simple motion of picking up a glass of water.

He sighed despondently his mood plummeting now that he had no distraction any longer he felt the nostalgia creep upon him. There had been a few things he had wanted to accomplish before the event tonight but now his time had run out and he was left with regret and a bitter taste in his mouth. He took another sip of purified water and let his mind wander to the main one. The one that rankled him the most, the unfinished business left over from his long passed childhood.

He had had many on his list for vengeance, and he had taken relish in crossing each off as time went by but there were still three names that stood out starkly to this day, untouched and pristine no matter how much he wished to smear and devastate them. He blamed Dumbledore, he was always the one to set bad precedents, appearing holy while denying him his well deserved reward in a bit of just torture.

It seemed all those he really wanted to let know of his displeasure, the main aggressants of his miserable early life had had the bad tendency to drop dead before he had time to extract his revenge. A trend started by that old goat Dumblewhore. He should not have been surprised, that man had never had an ounce of propriety, going around calling students 'my boy', how he hadn't been branded a paedophile he'll never know.

He startled from his mussing by a the appearance of a crow woven of shadows a small rolled missive clasped in it's black beak. Recognising the creator instantly, the man accepted the parchment not bothered that the crow disintegrated instantly once it's job was complete, long being used to it.

Scanning the short missive, his posture straightening with the first sentence as his body heated up as the drums of war and carnage resounded within him, a wild sadistic smile spread his lips to let sharp incisors glint with poison.

Well, well, well, what do you know, good things _do_ happen to those that wait.

Leaping to his feet with new vigour, he summoned his cloak and swung it about his shoulders with a broad grin as anticipation thrummed through him. Summoning his own shrunken torture-kit that he had put together a decade ago and always held ready to grab at a moments notice he was almost giddy at it finally seeing some action.

A head shot out from between the mountain of cushions, suddenly very alert. :$$: _Wait! Take me too, take me too! oh please take me too.:_ $$:

The man turned and lifted a regal eyebrow. _:_ $$: _Why so eager? :_ $$:

 _:$$:I want to know if a horssse-giraff-human and a walrusss-human tasste different from the normal two leggerssss.:$$:_

So he was eavesdropping at the vents again, those specific descriptions were only used when he was at his most venomous like two nights ago, when he was swearing aloud alone in his room. It seemed like nothing was safe from him, not even information. Nosy snake. It was a good thing he was the only one who could understand him or it would dampen their war effort significantly.

 _:$$:And where did you gain the knowledge of my desstination, there certainly was no owlss left for you to interrogate_. _:$$:_

The serpent slithered out of it's cavern of cushions revealing gleaming scales in a aweworthy display of dark greens and black, coiling and raising it's head majestically, it's impressive emerald eyes glinting with wisdom. _:$$:I'm a God I know everything.:$$:_

…

…

The man remained unimpressed.

( He refrained from mentioning the sneak exploiting their bond once again to eavesdrop on his private musings and instead strengthened his occlumency barriers. One had to let one's pet believe they had some upper hand every now and again. He didn't want to deal with a despondent familiar, once had been far more than enough.)

Instead he indulged in a secret pleasure of his, a teasing glint glittered in his eye as his expression morphed into one of astonished surprise even iif his voice was heavy with sarcasm.

 _:$$: A God. Really? I could have sworn I just heard an eager pet puppy begging for a walk.:$$:_

Had a snake been capable of blushing, the man didn't doubt the snake would be crimson in embarrassment.

 _:$$:You must have heard wrong:$$:_ the serpent-come-God denied waving it's tail dismissively. _:$$:That was not me, ssome insssolent vermin must have ssnuck in. I'll have to hunt them down later.:$$:_

Harry's lips twitched as he held his arm out to the self-proclaimed scaly God _:$$:I see. In that case I must insist you do so as ssoon as we return, we cannot have sspiesss running around can we? :$$:_

He bounced in excitement as his familiar slithered up his arm to settle under his cloak once again hidden from all eyes, it was an unusual behaviour for him but he couldn't help himself he had waited too long for this that the few seconds delay were almost too much for him. After over a century, it was finally time for a family reunion.

Leaving without giving those two his appreciation for his _educational_ childhood, and giving his farewells would have just been bad form. He was raised better than that. A bloodthirsty smirk graced the mans lips as he grabbed a satchel and, without further ado, whirled around and melted into the shadows with a gleeful laugh.

"Happy Birthday to meeee!"

* * *

 **So my first chapter out! I still can't believe I'm publishing something! I had this story in my head for a long long timebut it usually starred years ahead timeline wise =-=" I'm a very chaotic writer, I think of interesting scenes without rhyme or reason and just jot down what haunts my mind. Actually coming to the start was a struggle! That I'm never satisfied didn't help my case either.**

 **This was supposed to be published on the 31st fitting for Harry's birthday, buuuut as usual I'm a bit late, 1hour and 40min to be exact -3-** **Hopefully it's still the 31st somewhere in the world.**

 **Please review and tell me what you think.**

 **Please be gentle I'm a story virgin *blush***


	2. Prologue II

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of it's franchise. Unfortunately.

Warnings: Mentions of war suffering and death. Also a not favourable view on religion and on us normal muggles (don't get mad! this is fiction and coloured with the view of magicals that are being hunted, massacred and watched their world turn to dust by the destructive might of science and warfare . I don't think the American Indians had a single favourable word to spare to the Paleface's invading their land either. It's basically propaganda.)

 ** _Adapt or perish, now or ever, is nature's inexorable imperative._**

\- H. G. Wells

Earth the blue planet.

It was a moniker Gaia had proudly worn for many millennia, now the title could only be used in mocking. It had been half a century since there was anything blue to be found that wasn't syntetic. The endless bodies of water that covered 70% of the earth, once teaming with life were now polluted beyond reason reduced to yellowish watt of death.

At it's population peak Gaia supported 7.5 billion people, officially that is, in reality it had been close to another billion people that had never made their way into the systems, legal authorities unaware of their existence or those sequestered away in their own nations, isolated for so long that they had been forgotten completely by the outside world of normals and some even by their own kin. They had been happy to fade into obscurity.

Those days were long over.

It started with those unknowns, a steady decline in their numbers had been visible since centuries but suddenly in one century there had been an alarming drop, a tragedy easy overlooked in the grand scheme of things as that century marked the greatest loss of life since the advent of human superiority. For the first time war was not fought between nations but amongst the whole world and that century saw more death than any before since the advent of human superiority. The death of scarce million, horrific any other time, was negligence in the face of the overwhelming number of 123 million that perished at the same time so the death of a few more didn't even register in the grand scheme of things.

It was when there should have been peace, that unrest broiled and unbeknownst to the rest of the 7.5 billion, numbers began dropping drastically on the sly in the next decade as large amounts of the unregistered were eradicated by other unknowns, starting in west Europe and spreading across the globe like a plague it left a trail of destruction. 172 million lives were lost before the killing frenzy finally abated all while the rest of the world remained totally oblivious to it all.

Until, suddenly, they weren't so oblivious anymore.

One slip, one slip up was all it took and the world tilted on it's axis and the view of reality of many was shattered.

Hysteria and panic, aggression and hate, emotions were escalating and minds reeling as the world shuddered with new revelations. Fanatics and religions that clashed and rioted ceased, their eyes for once set on the same and disputes of rising dictators recalculated for once all eyes were set on the same, united in their caution and for a fragle span of a few years the world seemed to still, there was unrest and outcries but no major actions as the major players sat back watched and analysed, the battlefront being that of words and laws instead of physical. The base nature of humans was there broiling under the surface; envy , greed, hatred the three most destructive of the so called deadly sins. They saw a power that existed but they would never be able to wield themselves, no matter how much efforts were made to shake that fact it would always be out of their reach, and with that came the fear that empowered the other three.

All it took was a single careless incident, very small and negligible under normal circumstances but there was no longer such a thing as normal, it was one drop into the already overflowing cesspool of vitriol and the shaky balance imploded.

War and hatred beat in every heart, like battle drums in the chest fanning the fires of destruction, and there was no stopping any longer.

It was merely two decades after the turn of the century that humanity in it's endless wisdom(madness!) decided that they had to try to challenge history, and outdo their great-grandparents.

The last two World Wars, before heralded as atrocities, looked like nothing but playground squabble compared the pure destruction and suffering taking place each day… in light of the true horrors that greeted each new dawn highlighted by the sheer number that never saw the sun rise again. Numbers started dropping at a sickeningly pace, there were days where millions were lost then there were the days that killed as many in a matter of hours.

The more damage there was the more weapons were pulled out of the dark corners of the world, born from half insane minds, each more devastating than the last. It was a vicious cycle with no end in sight. All was sacrificed, no cost was to high to see their sworn enemy dead!

It was insane.

It was fanatic.

It was desperate.

And it happened simultaneously on the _entire_ planet.

This time things were not ended with a demonstration of overwhelming power or eradicating a nation, since this war was not fought for a nation or even ethics group but against people that looked like humans but were vehemently denied the classification as such - their rights having been stripped from them by every government right at the start - that existed in every habitable country, everywhere where humans had settled could not land a decisive blow without heavy collateral of their own.

When the situation got really dire, those abominations showed their deceit by hiding amongst the true human pretending to be one of them. It was disgusting and unsettling. Soon everyone suspected their neighbour and the days of the Spanish inquisition returned and everyone turned against each other, never being sure if the old lady by the shop was truly that or one of those crooked devil incarnations or that child at the playground that seemed far too intelligent for a five year old. That's when the race of chemistry and biology began and laboratories churned out one affront to nature after the other assured that it would only target the enemy. In their folly their creations were used before thinking of the consequences, all rationally already lost along the way.

It was reminiscent of the foretellings in the ancient legends in many religions and cultures, if any of the people of old had seen the world as it had become the answer would have been prompt and filled with terror; Armageddon, Ragnarok, the end of the world…

Death was abound and Earth suffered yet humans were unheeding or just willfully blind that, in their wanton need for destruction, the soil beneath their very feet crumbled and life withered.

Thirty year's, and the world was unrecognisable, their lack of inhibitions about testing weapons on field became their noose and the true humans opened their eyes choking, the air no longer breathable.

… it was too late.

The air was toxic and the vegetation dead, the billions of different species that had once made earth their home, gone. There was barely anything edible.

The damage too severe to be rectified, there was nothing they could do but lay in the bed they had made.;

Too many had lost their life to count, some by the abominations many by their own weapons but most in the last years by the environment itself, falling victim to the gruesome starvation death. To survive humanity - it was a laugh they still managed to even associate themselves with the word after what they had done, a very bitter one - forced to congregate and retreat behind structures of concrete, glass and steel, long stretches of wastelands between one settlement and the next. From the once super population only a billion remained, scattered to the wind, large stretches of nothing between them and the next sign of life.

Travel was no longer considered as a valid option, in the light of the crash of modern civilization and common technology and few survivors ever left their safe structures. Fuel becoming a very closely guarded resource and not volunteered for a journey with such a little chance for success. The terrain was tedious and labourious to traverse, as paved roads had become a thing of the past and those that had been there too damaged or crammed with wrecks that they were unserviceable. If one did manage to make headway there was little as a reward as toxic rain and radiation had turned the soil dour and the land had little left to offer. It was fitting and not without reason that all land between the pockets of settlements and the oceans had been named Wastelands, as that was exactly what it was.

The incentive of seeking out other retreats of humanity soon dwindled as relations quickly turned tense and sometimes outright hostile. Travels between the the individual city states was largely considered cumbersome with little to no benefits. No the True Humans did not travel unless they had a concrete destination in mind and were secure in the knowledge there was something to gain them and quickly came the realisation that they had competition in from of other rival survivors, the relations between the closer settlements oft tense if not outright hostile after a few overlapping interests.

Trade was far and in-between, communication was poor and, as mentioned, travel was problematic. Even when they were aware of each others existence, trade between Settlements lasted a few years at best before their own greed saw them bicker and fight over the sparse resources available, preferring to plunder, sabotage and steal, not even contemplating sharing when there was so little. All believing themselves entitled to anything that remained.

Their worst problem in their new reality had quickly revealed itself, it was not the radiation or other humans, but the acute shortage of food. Water could be cleansed and filtered and recycled anew but in the new Wasteland earth had turned into the main supply of food they had was what they could produce themselves in their greenhouses and farms, expansion was difficult and a careful eye had to be kept on the cities populace. It was no wonder the top brass was so eager to start small wars and skirmishes with other competitors it had the double function of getting their hands on more and at the same time culling their own population. A life meant little to those above and secure in their positions as leaders, or the intellectuals such as the doctors, engineers, scientists and researchers

The world was basically split into those above who were situated in reach of other T.H.S (True Human Settlements) and were constantly at war with other or those who had the misfortune – or fortune, depending how you looked at it – to be too far from anyone else and stranded alone far from others. Isolated. The latter often operated under the belief that they were the last left on the planet, declaring themselves chosen by god to continue the race. Those cities often had no surviving communication systems and felt justified in their words and never even considered leaving their safe zone and venturing into a wasteland with unbreathable air and was plagued by devastating radiation storms that occurred unpredictably and routinely destroyed all in it's path.

They never knew if their assumption was true or not. But they didn't care for the answer anyway.

Then there was the Third party in the tug-of-war of the remaining states, that moved like ghosts and that knew it all. They were different. They saw the world around them with clear eyes, the air was toxic, water poisonous and land untraversable with vehicles, settlements far and isolated… they may have been saddened at what the planet had become the but they did not look at it with desolate hopelessness like the others... instead they saw opportunity.

Before they had always been at the disadvantage, outgunned and outnumbered always on the receiving end of weapons of mass destruction. But now it was different.

Now they perked up and saw potential, all they had to do was face the challenges of a warped nature and overcome it. So they adapted. They saw the seemingly impossible hurdles, made them their bitch and turned it into their strength. Amongst them a rising star rose and guided them to renewal and greatness, under his leadership they broke all the limitations that had threatened to crush them. They thrived where all else just struggled.

They were free, not shackled to cities hidden in über-dimensional greenhouses and they made the world their own. Moving like ghosts, they roamed the Wastelands, crossing terrain believed impossible; they mapped out the earth anew, meticulously marking every location of civilisation as they went.

They did not share the knowledge.

For why should they share valuable information with their sworn enemy? The same enemy responsible for it all, they were content to watch them struggle.

For a time.

As what kind of enemy would they be if they let those maggots believe that the poisoning of their planet had atleast been worth it if they won, that they had actually triumphed? Such a fatal misconception was just far too cruel to let it stand, when it was so far from reality.

-)§(-

USA remains

Nevada City 34THS(True Human Settlement)

30 July 2107

18:23

Footsteps echoed on concrete as a man made his way down a windowless corridor at a brisk walk

His usual genial mask dropped here in the solitude of level six security, his annoyance bleeding through at his menial task. It all came back to those abortions; Orpheus , the Black Organisation, don't make him laugh they were abdominations and nothing else. They were a nuisance and a plague that should have been eradicated years ago.

He scowled thinking of those monsters who refused to die, how he wished they still had some captured like in the olden days, with one strapped to the table they would be sure to find a way anatomy and biology were not his area of expertise but he was sure he would be able to contribute, with such an incentive he would put effort in.

He would do the world a favour, only rectifying a glitch in evolution, freaks that should not exist and had poisoned the planet making it what it was today. They were responsible for all of humanities suffering. They had destroyed the planet and they now had the gall to attack them further and sabotage all their efforts for a better future.

He had only been a child, but he still remembered the pinnacle of science that they had laboured over for year slapped back down onto the ground and going up in a explosion so large they had felt the vibrations all the way to their home. The hope of his seven year self had been completely crushed and soon all he was left was with his rage and hatred. They were abomination that should have died but still plagued the world interfering with the work of the 'True Humans'.

Now they turned him from a venerated child prodigy into a gofer. The last three months had been stressing as the cloaked midgets had been especially zealous in making themselves a nuisance and extra caution was now the order. Not that they were ever negligent on any other day, this whole sector was proof. Finally reaching his destination he shifted the mountain of paper to free a hand to yet again to punch in the correct code to gain entry.

He looked at the archive full of shelved boxes and metal cabinets, the light in the center flickering on immediately at his entry, grimacing at the monotonous job of organising files and papers that awaited him.

It seemed such a waste to squander the precious rare wood on making paper when it had other more beneficial uses that did not destroy the wood completely. This was the age of computers and digital information, the only idiots who insisted on using such a plebeian method of writing were those monsters.

John Peter Cuttler, prodigy and one of the top engineers and chemist the world had to offer, set down his tower of files and straightened his tie, well aware how important it was to keep the information contained. The information in this room would decide over the future and as such was far too valuable to keep anywhere it was at risk of being hacked. Even the best of hackers had yet to find a way to infiltrate the system and steal information that was firmly kept in the physical word, there were not even camera's this section of the underground facility to get a visual. So no matter the inconvenience and waste of resources some sacrifices had to be made, even if it was his valuable time that could be better used in the labs, these files were not allowed to get into their rivals hands. If that meant printing, and lugging several pounds of converted wood half a mile through winding pathways with password and retina scan every hundred yards, to reach a reinforced archive that only ten people even knew the existence of, he would do it. That did not mean he had to like it.

Pulling out a set of oldfashioned keys – really who used keys anymore when even their vehicles started with finger print and press of a button – he unlocked the right metal cabinets and began his tedious work. He'd have to have a talk with the Head Dr Liston, he was far too overqualified for this, surely a gofer or a soldier would do for the job. As long as the man kept his mouth shut, one more in the know should not pose a problem.

Slamming the last drawer shut and locking it he returned the keys to his pocket, sincerely hoping this was his last trip here, he left.

He didn't notice that he hadn't been the only one in the room. Nor did he notice a pair of eyes watching him the entire time from amongst the shadows, pale eyes with a ring of silver that glowed from deep within the darkness. No the man known as John Cuttler was not patient nor attentive when it came to anything that was not his research and thus was already striding down the deserted hall, thoughts fixed on advancing his project.

-)§(-

Back in the archive that harboured this cities most secret documents, the figure in the shadows dissolved before reappearing in the middle of the room with their partner. Both were dressed in black from head to toe,little was seen of them as most of them was obscured by a hooded cloak that blended so well with the darkness it was hard to tell where it ended and where it began. Little was visible of their faces as the cowl was pulled deep and shrouded the top half in shadows and the lover part was covered by a black cloth face-mask and a scarf respectively. It was only the eyes staring from within the deep cowl, sending a shiver of fear through the men's that saw them as they seemed to glow otherworldly. The aforementioned figure with their glowing ring of molten silver around the iris, had a smaller partner that wasn't any less striking with luminous, vibrant eyes that were a true violet and not a blue that just seemed like it.

Their only other distinguishing feature was the silver and white emblem emblazoned proudly on their left breast as soon as they shifted from their stealth mode and were assured of their immediate safety. It was the sign of Ophiuchus, the very Organisation that was the terror of all True Human Settlements, the coat of arms represented in white stars and the silver snake the name stitched in stark white in fancy capital letters with hints of a serpent in the lines of the S and Larger O through the middle bottom to top. There was not an intelligent soul alive that did not recognise it on sight, while others felt pride and warmth like coming home the others only felt terror and the overwhelming need to run such was the power of the simple design, not because of it's design but purely for what it represented.

Any man wearing that was not one to be messed with no matter the first impression or diminutive size, to cross one of them meant death and one only saw them when you were the target or things were about to get very ugly for you and all those in the vicinity. One thing was sure just because you couldn't see any it didn't mean their bodies weren't littered with hidden weapons, that's not how it worked in this world you didn't leave the house if you weren't armed to the teeth.

With swift movements they sprang into motions already clear of the task before them, violet eyes disappeared amongst the rows of shelves and metal cabinets and the taller of the two slunk forward to the door and only window outside to keep a look out, secure in the knowledge that their partner would finish sooner if they did not interfere.

Staring out through the reinforced pane, keeping a sharp eye on the departing bespectacled man, silver ringed eyes narrowed as he did not make his way to the right but followed further left, the opposite direction from where the blueprints indicated the lift was located. Nothing was down there just more storage rooms – the same rooms that they intended to proceed to after this one – it was effectively a dead end. From just watching the man in passing the last three days, it was easy to notice his quirk and predict some reactions to certain situation. From all they had seen of John P. Cuttler they had concluded him to be a man driven by his work, who avoided contact and conversation if it was not necessary as he hated wasting time, especially his own.Something didn't add up here.

They were missing something...

Catching the eye of the other, the taller of the two signed to their partner appraising them of the situation and received an affirmative nod. Whipping out a slim length of wood and weaving a complicated pattern they ended the motion with a flick to down the corridor and set the proximity and alarm wards before sliding it back into it's sheath.

Concentrating on the feel of the soul of the lab-coat wearer, the individual code-named Schatten - not original but they could have been stuck with Umbra – closed their eyes and melted into the shadows appearing a scant moment later rising from the shadow in a corridor that looked just like they all did in this underground sector of the base. With shrewd eyes they watched the target approach a fire extinguisher and flip the whole thing to the side to expose a keypad and scanner.

Jackpot.

After a retina scan and a 12 cipher password the wall slid aside revealing a narrow tunnel with a slight incline.

Schatten followed a few paces behind, close enough to squeeze inside before the door closed and they loosing sight of the man but far enough to eliminate the possibility of being noticed, slinking after the lab coated man using every shadow to his advantage all the while observing his surroundings. Attentive eyes flittering from the crude tunnel drilled into the rock to the widening lit opening ahead, taking in the oldfashioned metal train tracks.

What busy little bees they had been… the figure observed silently, frowning when noticed the waiting cart upon the track, it was a streamlined high speed model not usually seen inside the settlements except the one in Japan where all transportation was handled that way and those ran on railroads all over the claimed territory. Mind flooding with calculations Schatten estimated the length of the tracks to warranted the need for it.

This was getting better and better.

Coming to a quick decision Schatten focused on Cuttler who was approaching said cart.

Wait for it…

...now!

Without warning Schatten sprang into action with feline grace and flexibility, reducing the distance in the blink of an eye, they leapt forward running along the uneven wall and pushed off, using the momentum the slight body twisted in the air and up to the ceiling. Two black blades were drawn and sank deep into the bedrock before one could get more than a glimpse of the deadly edges, Schatten curled their body and fluidly slid their knees between chest and ceiling, stilling in the upside-down position. Not a single sound had been heard during the entire process, the figure flickering in and out of sight as if they were naught but a shadow themselves. Had anyone been witness to that move they would have been torn over awe at the body control needed to manage the feat and the terrifying fact that those two blades had just cut so sharp that there seemed to be no resistance at all and slid into the ceiling as easily as a warm knife into butter and not solid, American rock. Appalling, the blades and the wielder both. Very appalling indeed.

Crouched and ready, Schatten waited, eyes firmly affixed on the approaching prey that had yet to notice their presence and was still approaching oblivious to the peril. That would soon change.

Just as Cuttler heaved himself on the high cart, he was directly under the dangerous predator who was in motion the instant they had their prey where he wanted him. Schatten slid their body down, a thin rope clenched in gloved fists and looped through the rings at the end of the handle, they lowered themselves silently keeping their upside down position and the moment Cuttler stood up they had him.

With a loosening of fingers, they were eye to eye with the startled scientist, brown met silver ringed, and not being a novice there was no hesitation and Schatten instantly dove into the mans mind with a non-verbal _legimense._

Time seemed to be suspended for one perpetual moment.

One figure just rising the other seemingly impossible position of standing on the ceiling black fabric falling about them as gravity exerted it's pull granting the first glimpse under the deceiving cloak.

With the dark cloak's weight causing it to flap past overhead, sight was unhindered and revealed the snug armoured clothes that had been hidden underneath. The footwear was a definite surprise, steel-toed and rather clunky boots with thick soles with a good grip and reaching up to two cm over the ankles, for a person that moved on such silent feet one would have expected something lighter. The casual observer would not notice the retractable, poison laced blade on tip and heel.The obsidian long pants that was made of a peculiar fabric that was neither cloth, leather or hide but a peculiar mix of all that was only known to their Organisation.

The special fabric was won by combining several magical cloths and hides like acromantula silk, dragon hide and shell of blast-ended shrewt, making for a very flexible but durable material once combined with alchemy and perfect for armour. It covered the body from ankle to their hips and from wrist till far up the throat where it blended seamlessly with the face mask; no heat, bullet or blade could penetrate it. On top of that they wore a cloudy silver shirt with loose long sleeves and a black vest on top, giving ample space to conceal small blades and runes. Sometimes a glint of armbraces could be seen the metal tinted to absorb all light and with many nasty surprises lurking underneath for those that ever came too close.

Dark leather belts and straps ran over chest and hips to secure multiple holsters, a durable pouch at the thigh just under the moleskin pouch attached to the belt, as well as the outer cloak, strategically done that despite hanging upside down the cloak did not flap into their face or restrict arm maneuverability. Despite the bright lamp affixed to the ceiling bare meters away no light shone underneath the hood that through all the quick motions and current state had faithfully remained in place only shifting minimally to expose a loose strand of 15 cm long midnight hair. But that was all one could glean before the moment was over and Schatten was gone.

John P Cuttler was left standing alone in the room, frozen mid-motion.

-)§(-

John blinked, and shook his head berating himself for spacing out he had better things to do han stand there and stare into empty air. Sitting himself primly behind the control panel he pressed his thumb to the scanner and the cart came to life. Five seconds later and he was already moving down the concealed underground metal tracks, speeding back to his beloved lab.

-)§(-

Lips pulled into a smirk as the slim figure watched him go. A secret outpost lab and research unit, dedicated to the pinnacle of what their minds can achieve, all provided to create the perfect atmosphere to produce the next generation of weapons. It was such high level security that only the Head of Military and the scientists involved were aware of it's existence the guards stationed there not having left the outpost once since they had been ordered there. It was no wonder that this was the first time they heard of it despite their elaborate networks, such a level of paranoia was almost admirable.

 _Almost_ , as one individual acting upon suspicion had busted it so easily.

Flexing their fingers, Schatten felt the slight twitch toward the disappearing train tracks where prodigy John P Cuttler had disappeared and smiled, being able to plant a tracking spell during a split second touch was really one of the most useful talents learned and now he fool would lead them right to it. Shifting their body to create a small opening in the cloak, two crows shot out from the darkness within one after the cart to be their eyes and informant the second flew a sharp turn and settled on the offered arm, small gimlet eyes staring at Schatten expectantly. With an unseen smile, at the loyal companion they touched the feathered forehead with a finger and magic sparked as memories and a message were imparted, with a mental command the fastest crow in their arsenal shot off and straight through the solid rock ceiling, eager to deliver the urgent information for Master posthaste.

With a sigh he left the room, feeling slightly regretful.

Heads would roll once, General Hemming aka the Head of Military of NevadaCity 34THS heard, too bad they couldn't be here to watch the fallout, the military man was known for his unforgiving nature, voluminous lungs and rapidly purpling face. It would have been amusing. Schatten would have loved to be the reason for it and poke around a bit himself, unfortunately duty came first and Master was counting on them.

Thinking quick he went through the list of available brethren qualified for this sort of assignment, stumbling on the perfect squad ofor this that was just a state over and by his estimations should be finishing up their task right about now if they didn't run into any untoward complications. How fortunate.

Concentrating magic into a nigh invisible onyx ring amongst the dark, the band of metal warmed and Schatten felt the connection click into place a moment later, a bored drawl sounding in his mind.

Diconnecting and with a smirk hidden under the mask, the figure melted back into the shadows, their pocket one ring of keys heavier, to returned to their partner who hopefully he wasn't too upset at the wait. The violet eyed member of the R&A Unit was not exactly known for their patience and Schatten would like to avoid drawing displeasure, for all their delicate stature their nature did not match and concealed a formidable temper once roused.

 **Second chapter! This took waaaayyyy longer than I would have liked. But first real life intervened and family came for a surprise stay and then it was the chapter itself. It. drove. me. Insane! I was never satisfied with it and kept re-writing, very frustrating especially since the first chapter was so much easier. It was only a few days ago I realised it was because it was massive and way too long no wonder I never got anywhere! -.-"**

 **Anyway enjoy and review!**


	3. Prologue III

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of it's Franchise._**

 ** _Warnings: More war, careless mention of deaths, remorseless killing, two women scorned and a flash of panties._**

* * *

 _._

 _I understand a fury in your words,_

 _But not your words._

\- W. Shakespeare

.. ..  
:

* * *

 **USA** **remains**

 **Stretch of Wasteland, Nevada.**

 **6.3km from NevadaCity 34THS(TrueHumanSettlement)**

 **30 July 2107.**

 **18:50…**

 **.**

In a craggy stone land, one lone figure scuttled about clad in a familiar black apparel but this time instead of the robe-like cloak, they wore a more form fitting trenchcoat that went to the calfs leaving the dragon hide boots visible and far more streamlined and normal in appearance than those of their silver-ringed eyed collegue. They checked the compass in their hand now pointing directly below.

Sharp eyes wandered over the rough rock surface searching for any irregularities, say what you want about him, but Caleb was good at what he did, there was yet a mission that he had failed. If there was a secret facility under his feet, he would find a way in.

Flipping down the goggles, the world around shifted as their vision converted to that of infrared, his gaze sweeping the area for any unusual displacement in temperature, his gaze quickly drawn to the slits of redish orange in the see of yellow and greens a few meters to his left. Crouching before it he pulled down the goggles to hand around his neck and drew an army knife, scrapping the sharp tip into the barely noticable crevice in the rock.

A satisfied smirk shifted the fabric of his mask, as he saw the damning glint of metal. He had just found himself the vents to this SS classified and secured labatory.

Taking out one of the four guns strapped to his sides he took careful aim and shot six times at choice intervells as he walked around it, no sound being heard from the fired weapon except a faint 'pshhh' that his trained ears barely registered. Taking the crowbar – where that came from was a mystery with how formfitting his clothes were, he just suddenly had it in hand – he stuck the end in a barely there crack and levered with inhuman strength.

Two figures appeared at his side out of nowhere and assisted him by shoving blocks in the space as soon as the now revealed metal cap was lifted fifty centimetres. A nod, and where a moment before there had been a black robed person there was now was a black and grey racoon that quickly into the opening and disappeared into the darkness to scout.

It was not even five minutes later that all three figures were gone from site slipping further and further into a territory that had been termed as best secured and unpenetratable by hostile forces, the walls as thick as a bomb shelter with the best and newest technological locks.

It was that hubris that proved fatal, as ten minutes later a black clad form swung from the ceiling and axe-kicked the stationed armed guard, breaking the mans neck and landing amidst the six others in the communication and security office.

...

...

All stared for a moment at the scene disbelivingly as one of their strongest and specially trained soldier lay crumpled on the floor while a black clad form stood in their midst, at least two heads shorter than the smallest among them. Said compact figure did not give them the chance to react and pulled out a gun in each hand and added four more corpses to the room. He had to jump behind a desk to avoid a salve off bullets then. He kicked out his leg and punted the chair towards the reckless fire and smirked as rain of metal faltered then ceased as the soldier was knocked over. Springing out with a roll he nailed the cursing muggle with a bullet of his own ending his struggle with a desk chair.

That was six…

Now where was that seventh...?

Sharp brown eyes pierced through the disarrayed room and saw the last guard at the control panels, his movements eratic as he fumbled in trying to raise the alarm. Caleb clicked his tongue in Irritation, he couldn't risk using his gun… vaulting to his feet he used the desk as a springboard, with a sommersault and flip in the air he landed on the mans soulders with his knees the head clamped between lean, muscled thighs the momentum had his upper body bend and the soldiers face slammed into the panel infront of him with a dull thunk the body going slack.

Slipping off the man he stood before the control system and after a quick inspection his hands started flying over the keys and buttons. How careless of them to not secure the security system with an extra code within the control room too. With a final press of 'enter' the whole research facility was on lock-down, there would be no escape and no reinforcements.

The facility was as good as theirs. They hadn't ever thought that their expensive defenses could be used against them, they really made it too easy.

Their negiligence, our gain.

.

 **-)§(-**

 **.**

Half an hour later there were three almost silent cracks and seven figures appeared 1800 meters away on an outcropping, landing midstep and maintaining sure footing. Lagging behind slightly, one of their number and by far the smallest, turned back to the east and stared down into the valley below, coming to a stop. A golden skinned hand extended from between the folds of the black cloak, orange flickering around the tiny hand in anticipation, they deliberately snapped their fingers, a small spark igniting.

"Boom." A soft voice intoned without inflection.

The effect was instantaneous and a pillar of dirt and white hot flames shot into the air, the strong clap of air breaking the sound barrier rent through the air as a shock wave sped in all directions visible as it stirred up the aren ground as he sped over. Wide eyes gleamed as they took in the destruction, the flames being reflected in topaz coloured eyes. Their cloak was pushed back violently and only the enchantments on the hood rendered useless as the hand brushed it off as the shockwave blew past in a rush of air, wrenching it off and dislodging the mask, the thrust of wind the exposing the delicate face featuring a look of enjoyment as the black face scarf fluttered freely in the wind. The smooth features revealed the individual as a girl that looked to be barely nine years of age, with healthy baby fat and soft white hair blown back in the gust.

It was a sight to behold, the dusky tanned skin with its almost caramel hue a startling contrast to the stark snow white of the hair. It made for a striking sight especially flushed in excitement as it was. A call and the girl turned to her comrades, seeing them ready to depart she ran to catch up and pulled her hood back as she went, obscuring her features once more. Another one this time in a hooded trench coat withdrew a length of wood, muttering a chant that was blown away by the wind, glowing blue lines formed and expanded in seconds, forming an intricate circle of sun, moon and stars woven by runes. As soon as they all stepped inside the lot of them vanished in a flare of light blue.

Only the smoking fresh crater in the distance proof of their presence, they themselves already on another continent altogether.

.

 **-)§(-**

 **.**

Alarms blared as the sensitive equipment picked up the seismic activity resultant of the massive explosion, and in a matter of minutes those situated three states over knew what had happened. In NevadaCity 34THS, true humans were forced to their knees and screams wrent the air as the ground beneath their feet shook and shuddered. No Explanation was necessary as they all knew exactly what happened without even having to investigate. Ophichius had struck again.

Without checking they already knew what they would find;

Destruction and no sign of life, not even the tiniest speck of DNA left behind of the demons, not even a shed hair or a scrap of skin. It was 25 years since this guerrilla war started, but they could still not even give an accurate estimate of their number, as they only ever appeared in small groups their features obscured the highest count at that event in July 26 years ago.

For all they knew it could only be a handful, as the governing bodies of the THS( .Settlements) were fond to point out to their subjects; they were deceitful creatures with their devil powers, who knew what was real or not when dealing with abominations that could mess with memories aswell as the perception. They were bluffing to make themselves seem more powerful, it was a known fact that the 'true Humans' always far outnumbered them.

Still these assurances rang hollow upon the ears of the fearful masses, who trembled at the mere mention of those damnable black clad demons.

They dearly wished those abominations would go back to the hole they crawled out off and leave them alone, the world was bleak but a far less stressful when they'd lived in the belief that those abominations were gone.

Ofcourse Orphichus was disinclined to comply.

For what kind of enemy would they be if they didn't take every opportunity to harass them?

Not a very good one, when their mere existence proved such an devastating blow to their morale.

No, Orphichus saw it their duty to inform the rest of the world of their continued health, especially the True Humans stuck in their settlements like sardines in a can, if their methods were a bit questionable to them well what could be expected of them they were abominations after all and incapable of the noble ability of speech.

(Do note the sarcasm.)

So in their own special way that included everything from espionage, sabotage, they even returned the favour and emptied a few R&D prototypes in their cities –

(Fun Fact about Potions; even the nastiest of failures has it's uses during war. With minimal refinement, nothing is wasted. )

… nothing was too underhanded when it came to war, what was the saying?

All is fair in love and war, and here it was definitely the latter.

After all they had suffered, all they had endured, after what they had seen… they were not in the habit of showing mercy, that ship had sailed after the first facility experimenting on their fellow magicals had been discovered. So in this instance they simply loved to bring the war right to their doorsteps when they became couch-potatoes and shut-ins.

(What? Cruel and barbaric you say? Bitch please, clearly you have never lived war or had the the misfortune to be born into the most devastating war since the planet was born. If you have nothing constructive to say do shut up or go join the 'True Humans' if you can't take reality, they had the act of smiling to your face while cutting up hapeless people in their basement down to a art.)

As long as one didn't look too closely at what they themselves did during that time, it could be argued that Orphiuchus had, in fact, been very generous; giving them thirty-five years to bemoan their miserable fate firm in the belief that though their planet was now poisoned and their civilisation on the brink of collapse at least the sacrifice of the billions of lives had not been n vain and only true humans remained upon the earth. Hadn't they been merciful letting them live in their delusions for three decades and let them bicker about their problems in peace; like their inability to leave the house, the tarvation, the toxic air, the almost nonexistent natural birthrate, ect...

See, _**generous.**_

(The inordinate amount of shadenfreude they exhibited when they crushed those beliefs and re-entered the spotlight of the world was not worthy of mention either.)

It did not have to be said that Orphiuchus was declared enemy number one world wide – that did sound familiar though. – Their black clad members became creatures of nightmares, spoken off only in whispers and used to get unruly children to behave. Their demise once again become preogarative number one, the hatred flaring up once again - maybe not so irrational this time considering exactly _how_ Orphiuchus and it's Leader Serpentarius chose to announce their re-entrance into the world – stopping their other projects their hearts once more filled with wrath and war.

Unfortunately the true humans were stuck with impotent rage as they may be prepared to unleash hell to eradicate those abominations once and for all, but were faced with one crucial problem. To be able to do so they would have to actually know the location of the aforementioned 'hole'.

'Somewhere in the Wastelands' simply didn't cut it when that included 60% of the world today, outside everydoor, on every continent… Their ability to teleport was proving to be a nightmare too, how were they to accurately pinpoit them when they couldn't track them?

Bizarrely enough, everyone and their uncle knew what the Orphiuchus' Headquarters looked like and had a name ready for it; The Black Tower. Despite not one of them ever laying an eye on it, returning to tell the tale.

.

* * *

 **Atlantic (North Sea)**

 **Orphiuchus Headquarters**

 **30 July 2107.**

 **19:25…**

 **.**

The Black Tower.

It was a place with such an ominous name that sent unease through those that heard it, a place only spoken only in whispers somewhere between a simple myth and a nightmare as it's existence had never been proven, not a glimpse of a obsidian ever captured by eye or most advanced lense technology could produce.

But everyone believed...

The lack of proof only cemented the place as a site of horrors in the minds of the masses, even amongst the countless cruelties that come to be a daily occurrence in the poisonous hell that the once lush planet had become. The reason was simple enough for the discerning individual, the Black Tower was the Headquarters of Ophiuchus, the organisation clad in black who were said to be deaths own reapers that had been unleashed on the world to punish humanity for it's sins, bringing death and destruction before disappearing again. Untouchable by man.

It was whispered to be the last bastillon of enemy of mankind, the witches and their dark creatures, all having traded their souls for the power of their witchcraft.

Opinions were divided but they all agreed on one thing; To have the eyes of Ophiuchus set upon you meant death, no matter how much you struggled, or pleaded once marked there was no escape. It stood to reason that the home of those types of otherworldly demons had to be the breeding place of evil, with fire, brimstone and tortured screams ringing out every moment - some especially bright bulbs thought to waste their resources and built devices to track them via those supposed screams, well to each their own - in the logical minds of the masses. As always when sheep were convinced of one undisputable fact they were utterly and irevokably _wrong_.

The reality was much different. For one it was _silent._

Could they see it the 'True Humans' would be green in envy, foaming at the mouth if they saw the fertile ground that still produced trees and the timeless elegance of the obsidian tower that stretched towards the sky. A true mist of perspiration clung to the ground making it impossible to discern the terrain underneath, instead blanking the area in a hush of white.

The figure on the right broke out into a smile at seeing the looming building pride and warmth filling him at the sight. This was his home, a place he was really proud to be able to declare as such. To be able to state with pride that he had made a name for himself and joined the ranks of one of the divisions of Orphiuchus. It was hard, and had cost him much sweat and tears as he trained beyond his limits pushing himself further each day. But it all payed off on the day of his initiation, seeing the sparkling face of his mother and finally having ring and cloak in his hands. To this day it was still one of his happiest days of his life, the day he had he had dreamed about since he was a tiny brat, clutching at his mothers robes, as he watched the imposing members clad in black come and go into the wider world outside. He had grown up listening to their stories and now he was one of them, he too stood among them proud and strong, officially a part of their ranks as the fought united against all odds.

And to think in times past he would have been dumped with the muggles and forced to grow up among them banished into muggle world banished far from his true home, from where he really belonged. Deemed useless, worse deemed as nothing more than an embarrasement never to be spoken off again and stricken off all the records they would have erased his existence never to be thought of again.

It was unimaginable to him and had his stomach roiling in disgust everytime he thought of it, his heart burned with revulsion and rage as he thought of the root of all of it, the man responsible for that barbaric practice. His hatred blazing with the might of seven inferno's blazing, at the knowledge just how _long_ that man had been hailed and revered as the paragon of Light.

He and his, did as _He_ did to them, they stripped him off his identity and legacy, his name never to pass their lips again.

May he lay in eternal torment, and from what his sources had disclosed – he had a few _very_ well-connected friends – he was, already long dead or not.

.

Despite all of that aswell as his tender graduation age, he had been selected for one of the most delicate and perilous of all missions. Infiltration.

He had been one of the few specially selected and entrusted with their future.

He, Elliot, who possesed no working magical core or the raw strength of his fellow Sleepers who were capable of crushing stone with their bare Hands, but only had his lithe build and his sharp mind to work for him, his overwhelming talent in calculations and numbers coming through. Armed with his intelligence and unshakeable will, he had advanced deep into enemy territory, entrenching himself firmly in their midst only to play them like a fiddle.

Within the month he had been proclaimed a prodigy and been snatched up by the upper echelon who wasted no time in indoctrinating him into their fast-track degree programs reserved for the gifted. He was taught only by the best and learn he did he soaked up all the information and knowledge they offered and then more some every hour he wasn't sleeping they were so accomodating, the muggles so desperate to fill the holes left behind by those that suffered a fatal accident on the way to the outpost - it was, of course, a complete coincidence that said vehicle had several of heir most reliable programmers on board, it was not like had ways to relay messages to those thousand of kilometers away, not now that most all communication satellites had been rendered defective by the ongoing radiation storms.

He milked them dry of every kernel of useable information they possessed, and at the end of the three he had reached his full potential and stood tall - he was so smug to have finally broken that 1m30 mark! - and proud. Against all adversary, he had succeeded.

There was nothing to compare to the euphoria that shot through him at his return, when he saw the majestic Black Tower standing as strong and solid as ever, and was once again be enveloped in the secure embrace of the protective wards that he had been born within, the Magick prickling pleasantly against his skin, when it truly sunk in that he was back.

All the Horrors witnessed, the reality of the long months of isolation far from all he had known all his life, the perpetually tension of one wrong step could destroy it all, the Long lonely nights where his heart ached with homesickness and his resolve wavered... all the accumulated hurt and stress was washed off sliding off him like sludge as stepped back into his home. When he saw the familiar faces and his mothers tearful smile so ripe with unadulerated joy and pride all welcoming him home, he felt his chest fill with warmth securein the Knowledge that all he had endured had been worth it.

Standing before the most powerful individual on Gaia and reporting his victory and complete Triumph, having the full Attention of such an impressive man as Master and seeing the the geniune gleam of pride and pleasure in those glowing emerald eyes of his and knowing that was you, you were the one that put that joy there.

To know that with his small, fragile-looking hands he had secured their superiority for generations to come.

It was a balm to the Soul like no other.

No matter how much time passed he would never Forget that Feeling and no one could ever take that from him.

Since then he had grown further and with his teamates had surpassed many much older than him. and granted sensitive missions they had been Hand selected for by Master himself. He wore his black uniform and was free, roaming the world for lost treasures, gathering information and stealing and sabotaging the enemy.

Yes the latter was hands down his favourite.

It was _everyone's_ favourite. The frustration on the muggles faces too amusing to resist from goading further as they turned such a delightful shades of red and purple. Hecate bless all scrying bowls.

Elliot was living the dream he had aspired to since he was a small brat – you do not listen to the voices that tell you, no matter what, a height of 1m35 still made you a brat – and was one of the Chosen Last to hold position until the very last when they handed duty over to the elder generation and they prepared for the next stage

in the ranks of Orphiuchus, conscious of the fact that you had surpassed many of those older than you and seeing the glowing face of your mother as you returned home. No one could take away that feeling.

That was in barely a few hours.

So Close, he often wondered at the reactions of the witches and wizards a hundred years ago before all the mess started. It wasn't hard to imagine, one half would condemn him and his Team for having a new crater in Nevada to their Name while their other would pretend he didn't exist, especially if he happened to share some familial features with them. Their reactions to Team 83's other exploits would be amusing, especially when unvieled that 2/5th of said squad were in fact 'squibs' as they'd been so lovingly was of Little consequence now, but back then to the S.P.I.T's (Stick-up-the-ass Prejudiced Inbred Tards)...

Ahh but he would get a chance to rub it in their faces soon.

up the wide Obsidian steps rising out of the ground mist and up to the five feet pedestral which the Headquarters rose from,

...

Their processsion faltered as their boots left the uneven ground of the invisible path and encountered the smooth surface of polished stone as they reached the base of the steps that lead up to the plateau and to the base of the tower where the massive double gate was set.

With such a satisfying thought he followed their squad leader as they resumed their pace with new vigour and ascended the wide obsidian steps, idly wondering what they would make of that goofball, the wayward thought bringing a slight smirk to his lips.

They cleared the mist and reached the top, the dark platform looking like a thin sheet floating on a sea of white, they approached the thick-walled tower that obscured the entire north with it's size as it reached high into the sky and toward the only entrance it had; the double-doored gate.

And an impressive gate it was, even without it's twenty feet in height it would be breathtaking due to it's material alone, a metal-crystal alloy that had it glint in a mesmerising display of black with hints of violet, blue, green, yellow and orange in it's depth not unlike a labradorite only far more alluring as shadows seemed to shift within, making it almost seem alive.

That did not mean it was only decoration.

The strong wards were palpable form up to ten feet away, woven into the metal and fed by it's innate magic, always reinforcing and ready to retaliate any attempt of forced entry. Even those incapable of feeling magic would be able to discern with a glance that this door was not built to be pretty but to to hold, if not the strong beams of metal and numerous locking mechanisms visible, then the sharp ominous feeling emanating from it's surface made that abundantly clear. They did not fear and carried on walking straight forward, right up to the metal and then right through it.

The imposing solid wall of defense melting away with a brief touch, shifting to smoke and shadow admitting them into it's embrace the wards welcoming them as it did so.

They stepped into a wide hall, enveloped in darkness, behind them the she shadows sprang up as soon as the last was through and solidified back into certain death for those not welcomed.

With a small content smile Elliot reached out one hand and caressed the black stone of one of the many pillars stretching to the cieling, marevelling anew of the smooth texture that while cool would never be cold to the touch no matter the amount of ice and frost it was buried beneath, neither would it ever be hot even under the hottest desert sun or bathed in dragon fire. It wasn't an enchantment that made it so but the stone itself that was inherently peculiar that way. A knott in his stomach, he hadn't realised was there, relaxed as the tension drained out of him at the feel of the familiar, smooth texture and thrumming of magic under his palm.

He was home.

Acidic green and yellow flames flickered to life bestowing only minimal light, twisting the corridor into a play of shadows and disorientating poisonous flashes of brightness. None of them startled or were adversely effected, if they couldn't handle that much they wouldn't ever been able to actually leave. The six faded in and out of sight as they glided forward not a sound to be heard, as they navigated the maze with a ease that spoke of deep familarity, their steps silent as feet whispered across the floor smooth black stone.

A minute later Elliot split off from the main group with their youngest, they slid into one of the concealed passages that one couldn't find unless you knew they were there and headed to the quarters, secretly a bit disappointed at missing out on reporting to Master, but time was pressing and there was still some things to settle - among them little miss pyromaniac - it wasn't as if there would have been enough time to continue their last discussion anyway.

At least he had a guaranteed respite of listening to the pedantic Demon Secretary harping on about punctuality. Cheered up at the thought and lulled into relaxation by the calming feel of magic and home, he led his young charge deeper into the corridor matrix, a spring in his step and feeling as if he'd just dodged a bullet.

 **.**

 **-)§(-**

 **.**

To be continued...

* * *

 _ **It's September 1st and the Hogwarts express is on it's way for a new School year! A whole troop of firsties on board waiting to be sorted tonight( god I would die if that was me!). As a Back To School Special and to celebrate a new school year at Hogwarts I've got an extra loooong chapter - it's double? Triple? the usual length and even has a proper amount of dialogue! Imagine that. So enjoy the treat!**_

 _ **EDIT: As mentioned above I posted this Friday but somehow it didn't work( hey you're looking at the person that by the second chapter had totally forgotten how to add the horizontal line, please don't ask how that happened I can't believe it either what with it practically staring me in the face). Anyhow I'm glad i decided to check today and noticed my mistake, at least this means the chapter wasn't so bad that no one read it.**_

 _ **Well better late than never.**_

 _ **Also I split the chapter so Part 2 is continued next chapter!**_


	4. Prologue III - Part 2

**Again my name is not JK Rowling so Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy and Tom Riddle Jr are forever out of my reach.**

 **Warnings of Part 1 still in effect.**

 **Here's the Prologue III PART 2!:**

* * *

 **Atlantic (North Sea)**

 **Orphiuchus Headquarters**

 **30 July 2107.**

 **19:38…**

 **.**

Cloaks swirling about them, four figures marched through the stone arch leading into the wide central hall as they left the dark corridors behind, their movements swift and oddly synchronised, not sharing the same steps but their movements flowing together somehow. The shadows that clung to them seemed to recede as they were illuminated by calming blue flames that were spread throughout the massive room, contained in lanterns dispersed at interwals along the wall and a massive chandelier that hung from the domed ceiling five stories above.

It was a monstrous thing of dark metal not it's appearance but it's size, with a seven meter diameter it deserved that term. A solid circle of metal built the circumference with many thick chains coming together above and joining into one that was anchored to the ceiling, in the center seemingly suspended by nothing was a huge blue white flame that was almost as big as the metal encircling it, the bright ball of flame making it hard to see to its center but beautifully illuminating the thousands of crystals hanging underneath in a cone shape making the light glint and dance merely as the flames shifted. It was aweinspiring and a work of art and never failed to calm all individuals that were bathed in it's light no matter the type of day they had.

(Except the one person.

Sheldon refused to cross the room in the belief that if he did so it would fall and crush him. Ergo he was forced to slink along the sides hugging the wall when he couldn't avoid crossing it - which, unluckily for him, was a lot, as the name said it was the _Central_ Hall, you had to cross it eventually if you wanted to get anywhere.

The worrywart, the chandelier had hung there for over a thousand years, it wasn't going to fall now even if he walked underneath it. Their assurances unfortunately did nothing to Change his superstitions.

Conversely his treck around the large circular room was always amusing to watch.)

Still clad in their cloaks and with their smooth predatory gait they cut an imposing figure, clearly in their element, here surrounded by elegant dark stone and magical fire. They looked otherworldly.

That mysterious air died a swift and cruel death as a small, pink missle collided with their leader, a high pitched squeal the accompaining sound-track, tackling him to the floor before he had time to do more than release an indignant squak. Bright bell like laughter echoed through the room and almost drowned out the moan of pain as a pigtailed little girl hugged the life out of her captive.

"You're back!" the very enthusiastic three year old squealed, sitting atop her dazed victim as the child bounced in delight.

Her only answer was a drawn out moan that kept breaking off as air was forcefully ejected from lungs as a far too pointy little bum repeatedly met ribs. Finally a teamate of his had the courtesy to stop their muffled giggles and help him.

"Melisse, you're suffocating your brother."

Even if it was only in the form of a deadpan sentence that did nothing to hide the amusement despite it's monotone delivery. At least the bouncing stopped.

"Oh!"

Melisse shifted off her her brother, more accurately she scooted up and janked the hood off that promptly vanished into thin air and grinned a toothy smile at the revealed face, the sight of the dimples completely disarming the fourteen year old and he scooped her in his arms pressing his forhead against hers, his dark blond hair mixing with hers as he breathed in her sweet candy scent, happy to have her in his arms again. With how late they returned he really hadn't expected it, he had been sad to miss telling her goodbye but it wasn't like he could tell Morten 'no I can't destroy the secret facility developing who knows what kind of nefarious weapons, my sister is waiting for me' he would never live it down. Ever.

It was bad enough that his teamates would happily blab about his being blindsided by a four year old. He wanted to cry at the teasing awaiting him, why was it always him... wait a minute. Grabbing the small shoulders of his beloved little sister he reared back and stared down into her face.

"Melisse! What are you still doing awake! Shouldn't you already be –"

"Buuuuttt!" she whined interrupting him before he could scold her, "I want to share with you Caleb! I don't want to…all alone…weren't even back yet." She mumbled and looked up at him with huge tearful chocolate eyes.

Aaaaand he crumbled, point him to an impenetratable stronghold and he gets in, present him with trained and experienced fighters armed to the teeth, no problem, one look from big brown eyes in adorable face… he's a goner. Damn whoever went around and taught little girls the puppy eyes. Pure. Evil.

Luckily, before he could further disgrace himself further his little sister had lost her energy, satisfied now that she got what she wanted and was snuggling back into his chest (thank Morgana he had refined his skills over the years and the existence of self-sanitizing charms woven into fabric. He knew _exactly_ where he had been and he did _not_ want her touching germ riddled uniforms) eyelids heavy as sleep tugged at her. It looked like he was handing off his reporting duty to someone else. Caleb threw a meaningful look at his female teamate, receiving a nod in return.

You're late." Came the monotone voice from straight behind them making them all cringe, it's silky quality sending a shiver down their spine, whirling around hands on their weapons and magic ready, they came face to face with a large slitted gold eyes attached to the ten foot snake a bare inch from their faces. Four horrified screams wrent the quiet air as they threw themselves backwards in instinct, jumping about a meter into the air in fright as they did so. The vehement reaction had the serpent rear back at the sudden loud noise, hissing in displeasure sending them a reproachful look. They weren't fooled, that thing was smug to high heaven you could see it in those evil eyes.

There was an long suffering sigh. "Must you always make such a racket, you are disturbing others." They didn't dare take their eyes of the huge golden eyed menace who was staring at them - hey they might now the snake... yeah that was the point they knew of the snake and heard what it did to those who recklessly turned their back on it, they were not going to be the next everyone laughed about - but quickly darted their eyes around for the speaker.

"Up here." A silky voice drew the attention to the robe clad form of a boy sitting on the coil of the snake, a large acient tome under his arm, clearly annoyed at their slow uptake.

Well excuse them, that they were too distracted by the seven meter long and fifteen cm thick floating serpent that stared at them as if deciding how best to eat them, to notice much else. Looking at the white haired youth was not much better though, the boy slid to the floor to stand infront of them in all of his disapproving glory, arms crossed and violet eyes boring into them. They recognised him - of course they did, there was no one who didn't - and lamented that he was the one charged with check-in duty.

"Hoods and masks are to be removed once inside the building." Mikail hated welcoming duty and it was noticeable as his mood got progressively worse the longer he was at it, not that you could tell from his face.

How a seven year old that barely reached their chest managed to look down on them and could make one feel so small, was one of the greater mysteries of this world. It was also absolutely terrifying.

How one could be intimidated by a small kid that, frankly said, looked like the lovechild of a angel and fairy, you say?

It showed what you knew.

 _Everyone_ knew not to mess with a Morgenstern no matter the package they came in.

Luckily they all had the discerning feature of white hair and a faint golden star upon their face, so they were easily recognisable. You see those features, you either be polite or run. This individual had one at the right temple peaking out amongst the strands of straight hair.

And if those penetrating glowing eyes of doom or linage weren't enough to freeze one in place then the silver monster of a snake glaring over the boys shoulder did it. It was nightmare inducing.

(It did not help that he had looked the exactly same when they joined almost two decades ago.)

"Mikail." The female teamate squeked, hastily removing her cloak and mask, a discreat charm ensuring that her hair and clothes were in pristine condition, a quick glare at the remaining two had them remove their coverings too their cloaks all vanishing into smake until the next time they had need of them.

The now identified Mikhail turned to the only one he recognised having a grain of sense. "I take it the mission was a success?"

"Yes the list has been completed, all 68 items have been secured, this was the last list that we were assigned to complete, Kieren is the only one who is still out finishing his." ? reported promptly, frowning as she thought of her brother still out so close to the deadline, his items being more difficult to collect due to their nature.

"Kieren has contacted the division leader and reported that there has been an in the New Republic of Zdradovia, the expected shipment was late, but they have located the last items and have commenced the sealing, the estimated return to base is in 90 minutes."

The blond beauty lit up in joy at the mention of her brother, while her until then silent teamate frowned not liking the implications of the news. He opened his mouth ...

 **"AAAHHHHHRRRRGGGG!"**

A frustrated roar was heard throughout the entire tower, it's ferocity shaking the foundations and causing dust to fall from the ceiling, effectively cutting of any inquiry he was about to launch.

The four returnees froze as a spike of unadulterated terror shot through them at the demonic sound of pure rage, while the young Morgenstern sighed tiredly, knowing exactly that there could be just one cause behind that could illicit that kind of reaction - or more accurately only one person, said person conveniently not within a 20 kilometer radius.

"Uh-oh" the three yer old intoned worriedly summarising their thoughts perfectly and promptly hid behind her brother in slight panic sleepiness completely forgotten, a feeling of dread and foreboding bellowing towards them from above as everything was suddenly silent as a tomb. It didn't last long. The quiet broken by the sharp clangs of metal against hard stone, an ominous sound that rose the hairs at the back of the neck and grew even more ominous at the simple fact that it grew louder every second.

Closer and closer and the tell-tale clicks of steel high heels were distinguishable. There was only one person that wore those and they had hoped it would have been someone – anyone – else. But it was her, in a temper.

Click.

Click.

Click!

CLICK!

CLICK!

The swiftly approached footsteps on the usual silent footed woman sounding out like a funeral march the rage wrath almost audible it was so palpable.

Doing the smart thing, the little blond gave up her poor shield and went the whole mile... and slipped under her brothers friends wide ankle-length skirts and clung to her legs like a limpet completely vanishing from sight and not a second too soon as a bare moment a figure appeared at theblack stone balustrade three stories overhead. Ruby lips pressed into a firm line, arctic eyes narrowed behind frameless glasses zeroed onto them instantly. Looking at them like a predator it's prey.

Yes that summed it about up. Before – or more accurately above – them stood Adelheit Brunner, single woman, Head Secretary and Head of Rasalhague, the Information Division, that ruled her division with an iron fist and sharp tongue. Aka The Demon Secretary.

The reason for that particular epithet was never more clear than in this moment as the usually calm and collected woman that valued nothing more than order and structure stared down at them with piercing arctic eyes as if the force of the will alone would combust them if they didn't give her what she wanted _Right._ _ **Now**_ _._

Then from one second to the other the dark aura and rage emited from her was gone and her face went blank the light of the chandelier reflecting off her glasses obscuring her eyes. That somehow made it worse.

And then she was gone.

One moment she was standing up there and staring down at them and then she was gone.

A shiver wracked up their spines and their magic roiled under their skin in anxiousness as they desperately trzed to locate the danger, it was like in those moments when you were watching a particularily gripping horror movie and the ominious music came on and you knew – just knew – that the character was going to die a gruesome death any second now, only this was far worse, the monster was actually in the room with them.

There she stood directly in front of them looking at them impassively. They would have screamed but they were so terror-stricken that the air got stuck in their throught as their muscles tensed in panic and they simply froze in place their brains short circuiting in pure primal fear.

Adelheit stood before them straight back and in all her glory. She was a godess and like a walking wet dream of anyone who had ever lusted after the strict librarian, because despite the stiff posture and no nonsense attitude the woman exuded an aura of sensuality not of this world, not surprising as she wasn't human. She was like every fantasy of the strict straight-laced working woman made flesh.

But they couldn't appreciate her looks this time as their fight or flight instincts were still firmly in effect making them blind to the usual attraction.

She was stood before them with a beign air as if the past show of temper was nothing more than a figment of their wild imagination, her black, silver and gold robes pristine and not a flyaway hair, her bun neat and her customary clipboard in hand, the picture of normalcy as they saw her everyday in passing. They weren't fooled, they didn't trust the appearance for a second. But something was off. The silence stretched as they stared still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

She sent them a polite smile. "It seems you have returned from your mission."

They couldn't answer, their instincts too honed to be ignored.

Seeing this Mikail sighed, jumping in the air and floating higher until he was once again sat on his hovering familiar who set it's massive head on his shoulder hissing in pleasure as his fingers scratched it under it's chin. "Indeed, just ten minutes ago. There is only one team left to return."

"Is that so. In that case, it would be prudent to wait with your reports and freshen up first and deliver the retrieved items to the Storage divisions they are waiting for you."

That startled Caleb back from his fear induced haze and gave him back his voice, much to his personal detriment. "But Master-"

There was a wave of malevolent intent that swept through the room at the protest, it's potency having their hearts skip a beat but was swiftly reigned in again. Adelheit pushed up her glasses with a sharp-nailed finger sliding them back up her nose, giving a clear view to the wintry gaze behind the glass that contradicted the smile still upon those red lips. "Master is not available right now, so the reports will have to wait." _Another word and you die_ , it was not spoken aloud but everyone heard it.

Except the oh so fearless Leader - read: oblivious idiot - of their squad, who took it upon himself to poke the beehive.

"Why, where is is he?" Caleb asked remembering Master lamenting only yesterday that he wold have to find himself a distraction for today because he was not allowed to do anything.

Angelique's hand twitched as she fought the urge to strangle her stupid _stupid_ moron of a teamate. Why couldn't he keep his mouth shut for once?

…Nevermind.

The better question was; why didn't Callum shut him up?

That was how their team worked Caleb lead the team, Elliot dealt with anything technological, she took care of the acquiring and that they all made it back in one piece and Callum was there for magical assault, transportation and mainly making sure Caleb was focused and didn't give in to the urges of his less than stellar personality traits. And he was failing!

She discreetly darted her eyes around to see what the doofus was doing that had him so distracted, only to not see him at all.

...?

She sent a low pulse of magic to scan her surroundings, keeping it very subdued and spread thinpraying that it would be subtle enough that it would go unnoticed, she did not want to draw attention to herself right now. The results had her clenching her fist tightly in seeping rage; there were only seven living beings in this room.

Her, the cowering but way-smarter-than-her-brother _three_ year old that was cutting off the circulation in her legs with her death grip,

Her idiot teamate that would be better without a tongue,

Cute but terrifying Morgenstern and accompanying Monster.

Handsome Lars, who joined their squad for the last month but she wouldn't mind swapping out for one of the other three permanently.

And lastly the Hell's Fury in front of her who felt she was one pin drop away from ripping their throats out.

...

No Callum.

That shit stain! when she got her hands on him... how dare he abandon her in this situation?! The traitor must have snuck away whilst they directed their attention upward before Adelheit appeared!

(Why didn't she think of that?! It would have been the perfect moment to make a run for it! Angelique whined inwardly)

Ah! That pin drop? She wasn't paying attention but in that small moment of inattention it sailed right past her.

"Yes very stute question Mr Warren. One I've been asking myself aswell. As due to all plans and discussions held during the last weeks I was lead to believe that our esteemed Leader Serpentarius would be in his office, the _entire_ day, until it was time to leave for the ritual site. Where he is always available to deal with the last minute issues that tend to materialise." the clippboard clasped in her hands creaked ominously, as it was forcefuley bent and contorted in her grasp.

"I may be a demon that boasts little need for pause and rest but I have not slept for the last 373 hours making sure everything is alsolutely perfect for this day. Organising all last minute missions, ensuring that the morons didn't mess anything up and followed Masters plans to the letter! I was prepared to deal with a lot of sheer incompetence but I did not expect to walk into Master's office and find it _empty!_ After patiently waiting there for precisely an hour, there was still no Master. He was nowhere to be found and he is not anywhere else in the Tower either according to the wards. So as per process of Elimination taht only leaves the Option that Master fund it a good to go _running off_ into the wild today of all days!

"So I came here to inquire if else may have an idea where it is Master has wandered of to **_without notification_**. A mere _five_ hours before the ritual we have been micro-managing into perfection since almost eight months. A ritual that if we miss the dealine we will be forced to wait at least another _Twelve! Years!_ before we can attempt it again! So I would like to ask you if you any information to share. Where _is_ he?! **Where. Is. Master?!** "

The tirade started calmly enough, but was riddled with some massive temper fluctuations but by the end of it seemed she had given up the veneer of serenity, the mentioned pressure of the past weeks reared its head and turned the usually calm, collected and to the every dotted 'i' woman into a raging fury. The demonic roar also had an appearance at the end there again. Let it be said up close and personal was even more soul-crushing and down right bowel loosening.

The only female felt a flash of kinship as she looked upon her fellow woman, who seemed too tired to even stay angry (lucky for them, but knowing her she wouldn't forget), and truly any other day seeing her strong unflappable superior having a emotional break down would have promped Angelique to flutter about her in worry and trying to comfort her, and the woman really deserved the sympathy after all she had been through...

... but right then Angelique couldn't even bring herself to pat her on the back sympathecically.

It was not because she was scared such an action would see her slammed into the nearest wall - make no mistake, even pushed past the point of exhaustion and collapsed on her knees with trembling shoulders, that was not a woman that one could dare percieve as weak if one liked their bones unbroken and whole - she simply had a bigger problem right now.

When she'd described that roar of her Head Secretary as bowel loosening she had been quite literal in that. Well, close enough anyway.

...

Yes that's right.

That warm liquid flowing down her calf? The same that continued down and straight into her _priceless,_ one-of-a-kind, custom-made Basilisk and ironbelly-hide boot?

Yes that was _NOT!_ water.

It wasn't _warm_ water either.

It may be wet, but it sure as hell did not smell like water. Yes, you guessed it. The worst of it was she couldn't even be mad, because for a three year old Mellisse had been doing very well - right until that moment.

That didn't mean she wouldn't get her owed pound of flesh out of the idiot brother. _**Everything**_ was _his_ fault anyway.

And when you thought a Situation couldn't get worse;

Then her idiot teamate had to open is mouth – **again!** – and say something incredibly stupid. (Really she wanted a new Team! )

"Wah, that's over two weeks!" Caleb exclaimed having done the quick math in his head, he gave her a deeper more assessing look.

(Of course he couldn't just end it there, if she had known his next words she would have taped his mouth shut, because obviously poking the beehive wasn't enough for him **_he_** **had to take a HAMMER to it!)**

(She was so blaming Callum for this! This would never have happened with him there.)

"-wow, that you managed to stay this beautiful is amazing! I mean I can barely notice the extra few stress lines and your skin may have lost it's shine but with your glasses I can barely see the dark circles under your eyes – although you look a little like a panda, now that I look closer – I thought it was just another poor attempt at makeup–"

He was cut off by a kick to the chin that had sailing through the air and slamming against the wall, (Yes! Fly fucker fly!) making the little Mellisse 'ooohh'ed in amazement with stars in her eyes as she watched her brother fly through the air. (Hearing her brothers description Melisse hadn't believed Miss Adelheit could ever look like a panda and so she had to take a peek to see for herself, – She loved pandas! – and it was true! Miss Adelheit looked really cute! Like a blond Panda with glasses and red lipstick!)

(…Like brother, like sister. The family relation was truly indisputable.)

His teamate facepalmed, inwardly reteriating her earlier lament – It should be possible to change teams, right? – Caleb and his motor mouth…

"You little shit! **One more word and I'll sew your mouth SHUT!** " She intoned darkly a glamour sliding over her face neatly and erasing the aforementioned signs.

Whyyy?" he whined, from where he crumpled against the wall seemingly unhurt from the rough treatment, the wall above miraculously dent free – that was real craftsmanship ladies and gentlemen. "It was a compliment!"

Seeing the dark look sent his way and the twitching fingers of the scary secretary, his face closed down behind a calm mask as his brain burst into Mission Mode and he beat a hasty retreat feeling the danger levels to his person rising.

His escape was short lived, as barely a second later he burst back into the room carelessly flung up Angeliques skirts – flashing her panties for all to see aswell as the small yellow puddle at her left boot – grabbed his little sister and hightailed it out again, all the while a steady stream of curses left his lips as he lamented the indiciferable species that called themselves women; resentful if you didn't compliment their looks, furius if you did! Surely not all of them were that homicidal, because he was starting to question how the male race had survived this long if all females were like those he knew. He had the worst luck. Hopefully his sister would be the exception.

A pin drop would have been audible in the ensueing silence. The female member of Squad 83 stood frozen to the spot her eyes obcured by her long brown curls and her entire body trembling torn in the moment between rage and the desire to to sink into the floor in embarrassment and die! – Lars saw her pantie! Lars saw her panties _and_ Mellisse's pee puddle and probably thought it was hers! Oh Morgana! OMM! – in the end she was a survivour and homicide won out.

"I'll kill him." the mild tone did not match the declaration nor did the murderous aura the placid smile. "Do excuse me." She excused herself from her superiors, before powerwalking out of the room disappearing through the same arch as her soon-to-be-dead teammate.

...

.

" **CALEBBBB!** "

(Lars, in the meantime, thought Callum had had the right idea – he pitied the man to be stuck between those two permanently – and discretely made his Exit, not exactly sure what he should think about his one month stint at the top. Yes the elite were crazy in more ways than one but it didn't change that all were just as powerful as they were insane - Was there a cosmic rule about that? Or was it the metaphorical thin air at the top? - That was enough for him, besides he could never complain about lack of entertainment. Now he just had to think of a way to avoid _ever_ becoming the focus of their ire. Though becoming gay was looking very attractive today. In any case, an all-male team sounded like a smart idea.)

Only two and a serpent were left, the secretary looking down the corridor as if contemplating whether to pursue or not and the white haired Morgenstern whose opinion of 'books over people' had been firmly validated. Being in the company of his fellow humans was far too troublesome and eight times out of ten, left him with a migraine. He was _so_ ready for his shift to be over.

Rubbing his temple – the one not adorned with his golden Family Mark, it was only ever the one side – in an attempt to stave off his headache he sighed dispassionately.

Firmly ignoring anything else – he didn't have to write all that drama down did he? it was enough if he handed the memory vial off to his brother, right? He was the one that would get enjoyment out of this – Mikhail answered the secretaries question from earlier in his trademark monotone as if the head of the secretary division hadn't just had a nervous breakdown infront of his eyes. "Master left from his office, bypassing the wards. Location currently unknown."

The clipboard in her hands cleanly snapped in half, before knitting back together a moment later as it's auto-repair function activated, all the while the smile never left her face but the air around her grew sharp.

Adelheit looked like she would gladly have wrung his neck but she still had common sense and knew she wouldn't be able to touch him even without his flying worm around.

Not even she was a match for any of the Morgensterns, so she concentrated her ire where it belonged.

"Boss or not, when I get my hands on that ungrateful thoughtless man I will have him strapped to his chair. He should be old enough by now to know one does not simply sneak out. What type of leader just leaves the headquarters without taking a guard? So help me if he traipsed off to another country for his research again…" she muttered darkly under her breath

With that she briskly made her way to the stairs to the basement, each step containing more force as strictly necessary, she had work to do. The day was too short already without wasting more time. She had to monitor if all the items were stored and secured correctly, Hecate knows they were all utterly useless without her there to oversee them. Master would return when he did, and when he did…

A chill went down a cloaked as he leaned against the wall, unperturbed he stepped out of the shadows a spring in his step he was far too cheerful to care. Coming within sight of one of his favourite people, he grinned blithely, his every movement telegraphing exuberance and satisfaction.

A moment later he appeared behind the whitehaired child and grabbed him from his perch and enveloping him in a hug. "Mikail!" he sang in glee twirling about himself a few times.

"Your business seemed to have worked out well." The boy remarked dryly but a small smile was upon his lips.

"Oh, it did." Master laughed gleefully, a sadistic edge to the husky sound.

"Congratulations." Mikail said softly relaxing with a content sigh as long fingers found there way to his temple and dissolved the tension with a few practiced motions. The man was a god with magic fingers. "Good to hear it was worth it, Adelheit is on the warpath."

..

…

"A-ah…"

"Yeah she has been looking for you." Mikail confirmed, taking the blessed hand and pressing it to his temple again, a silent entreaty for more. "You just missed her."

"…yes, that's unfortunate."

Master glanced to the left where the staircase that went downwards was located, hearing faint screams echoing from it's gaping jaw. He went the opposite direction, midstep disappearing and materialising on the third floor on his way to the concealed staircase leading further up, an indignant hiss sounding from below proclaiming the displeasure at being left behind. The silver serpent slithered through the air hastily, taking the direct air line to catch up to it's two favourite pet humans.

"I'm sure a little alone time will do her good."

* * *

 _ **Here it is! I hope you liked the September 1st Special!**_

 _ **Please Review.**_

 _ **I'm very curious as to what you think of my OCs so far.**_

 _ **(Those Little f***ers! I can't tell you how tempted to ERASE Elliot! If I was writing on paper i would have watched him gleefully burn for all he put me through! I had to Keep rewriting him and he was cause of alot of delay and a source of endless frustration - I really felt like a tormented muggle some days. Really no mercy! not even for the author.)**_


	5. Prologue IV

**_Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, I only call credit to the insane OCs._**

 ** _Warning: Reveling in a bloody revenge and evidence of an over-eating snake._**

 ** _Finally chapter 5! I had this edited and ready to go last week but more about that later. Enjoy!_**

* * *

 _._

 _Hindsight is a know-it all_

– Serpentarius, Leader of Orphiuchus. Fromerly Harry James Potter.

.. ..

:

* * *

Prologue IV

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Once again back in the office on the top floor, with the oval window, three figures stood in front of the solid mahogany desk. Two nervous, periodically glancing at the third who sported a dark frown, fidgeting further away when the dark aura about her spiked in displeasure. Further back half in the shadows another person lounged languidly ignoring the drama taking place in the center of the room and sprawled upon the loveseat looking for all the world like a lazy cat, yet every now and then mesmerizing black irises ringed in luminescent silver glinting sharply from underneath sleepy lids. All eyes instantly focused on the door when it swung open and Master stalked into the room with a fluid glide and his air of extreme satisfaction still intact.

"I take it the mission was a complete success." Master inquired, resting his chin in his palm he focused half lidded eyes on them.

The two jolted out of their daze and drew themselves up to their full heights and Caleb started his report precisely and factually, slipping into the comfortable routine, both inwardly releasing sighs of relief as the third in their row now had her attention firmly directed away from them now that her true object of displeasure was there.

They didn't get far as barely a minute in, a deceptively soft inquiry was purred from their side, having them freeze and muscles tense as their fight or flight instincts came to the fore.

"Is that blood on the pure acromantula silk shirt?"

"Hmm?" The master raised an eyebrow and raised his hand to peer at his sleeve that - true to her words – was stained in the unmistakable red of blood, by the quantity and intensity it was appropriate to say it was _soaked_ in blood. "Ah, indeed."

Now there was no mistaking the evident smugness of the cat that not only caught the canary but enjoyed it with relish, all that was missing was a tail swishing back and forth in lazy joy.

That caught the lounging boy's attention, his unusual eyes sparked in recognition and gained a darkly playful glint, his body coiling with predatory anticipation. "Successful hunting?"

"A family reunion."

Now the reactions were more blatant, it was no secret among the organisation that the Master had been long in search of his wayward family members that meddling third parties had hidden away. The congratulations were quick to follow the brief stunned silence and Master accepted with a curl of his lips.

"That is all well and good Master and I offer my sincerest congratulations but that is pure Albanian Acrumantula silk that you have stained with their filthy blood!"

"A good wash – "

" **No**. It's _contaminated_ and beyond repair now." The secretary said adamantly, then sighed " I shall have to dispose of it. I can not have our esteemed leader walking around in soiled clothes."

(Did she have to phrase it like that? It sounded like he had an accident in his pants. Yes, definitely still mad.)

The woman focused her magic on the obsidian ring encircling her left pinkie and started to bark out commands to her assistants mentally, only settling when she was assured of their swift compliance, with a nod she broke the connection and the faint glow subsided.

She turned to the two remaining waiting to give their report and assumed control of the situation with the knowledge that as the head secretary they would follow her authority to a T if they knew what was good for the. "You will have to show patience, I suggest you use the time wisely and write up your reports detailed and neatly, I want to see none of the usual chicken scrawl people think they can get away with." Ice blue eyes narrowed at them, bearing the weight of her displeasure at such an audacity, before turning to her boss with a neutral face.

"Now Master I have prepared all to cleanse you of the filth that managed to cling to you."

"Is this really necessary?" Master deadpanned.

"Absolutely Master."

As if to consolidate her adamant words the doors opened and two thirds of the harpies(her aptly named assistants) strode inside in their crisp secretary uniforms. Master and leader of the organisation or not, he knew how to pick his battles and he knew his secretary well enough to know she would drag him to the bath pleading and screaming if she had to. Unfortunately, it would _not_ be the first time.

It was better to indulge Adelheit when she got like this; the outcome was the same anyway, at least this way he survived with his dignity intact.

He also had to keep in mind how his unannounced excursion had riled her up, if being abused as a dressup doll for an hour spared him from her passive aggressive revenge in the form of additional paperwork, so be it! All to avoid the towers of paperwork.

Besides he was in an exceptionally good mood and still riding on his high, the rush of a successful bit of sweet revenge was still unparalleled. Languishing in a bathtub, reveling in reminiscences while he had his back scrubbed did not sound too bad, no not bad at all.

And he didn't seem to be the only one to think so, either.

Before either of the others were able to act the lounging raven-head disappeared from his sprawled position on the cushy sofa and reappeared sitting on the desk feet dangling, fingers closing around masters arm. "Your time together seems to have been reeaaally fun." He commented in a drawl a smile upon his face as he curiously inspected the stained sleeve.

"Oh it was." Master assured with a conspiratory grin, taking back his arm from the curious, grabby small hands.

"Oh." The ravenette intoned innocently, staring at his slim hand frozen mid-motion as he went to brush his shoulder length hair behind his ear, drawing attention to small guileless hands smeared red as if he'd stained them while gorging himself on baskets of berries.

They all knew it wasn't the berries.

Adelheit gritt her teeth, her glasses flashing ominously. Enough was enough, now the filth was spreading before her very own eyes. Unacceptable.

"Bath. **Now**."

Master merely nodded sagely and slid to his feet, well acquainted with that particular tone from the time before he had learned to do his paperwork immediately and still thought procrastinating was the way to go. What a delusional fool he had been.

A bath sounded heavenly right now, Master decided, so it was with a skip in his step and an uncharacteristic easy acquiescence that he nodded his assent to the three males at his desk and handed himself over to the she-devil and her harpies, walking out of the room he had entered barely five minutes prior. Satisfied smile upon ruby lips, Adelheit herded her Master out the side door and towards the ritual rooms, Gertrude walking ahead clearing the way ahead, an excited air of anticipation about the two females as they mentally planned the next two hours in glee.

The remaining harpy, the loveliest of the three as whispers went, threw the standing two an uninterested glance before settling upon the young raven-head, who reciprocated her stare with a small cute smile that had her heart seize before melting with a squeal of Mooooeee!

"You aswell."

Hilda, the buxom and leggy blond, snatched up the preteen still sat comfortably upon their leaders desk in her strong and had him pressed against her chest before anyone could protest or even blink her cheeks stained a faint pink, her hard eyes daring them to say a word, before turning around and heading after her superior a spring in her step and eyes sparkling.

The last the two speechless squad leaders saw of their fellow rank equal were shamelessly triumphant, silver-ringed eyes hooded in content and a sly smirk over Hilda's shoulder as he was carried out.

Yes, the family relation was undeniable at that moment.

The two left could only silently stare, now standing alone in the middle of the spacious room, _still_ waiting to give their report.

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 **-)§(-**

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Stripped, dowsed in cleansed and filtered water, smoked with rosemary, sage and thyme, subjected to a cleansing ritual followed by a thorough one for purification and finally released into the warm specially prepared 10 by 15 tub. The soothing scent of lavender heavy in the air, Master finally relaxed into the hot water muscles loosening as he listened to the soft voice of Morten as he slyly finished giving his report before cheekily declaring himself off-duty and surrendering into the tender mercies of Hilda as she took out her assortments of oils.

Master could only chuckle, shaking his head at the young boy, shamelessly exploiting any advantage or benefit he could get. Under strong orders to not dip one toe out of the water for the next half an hour, he closed his eyes with a content sigh and let himself sink into his thoughts.

He may be known as Master leader and founder of Orphiuchus who had created it from the ashes of their ruin and the one the organisation had been named after, a man feared or respected above all others and so powerful he was regarded as untouchable, but that hadn't always been the case.

In the past he had been weak.

Worse. A weak fool led around like a puppy on a leash.

Nor had his name been Serpentarius either, and in the quiet moments he sometimes slipped into the memories of before. Before he had taken on the name Serpentarius and discarded his old one he had come to hate and had so many obligations, labels and misery attached to it.

Serpentarius was a name that had been bestowed upon him as a alias for his work that he had eventually made into his own completely but he was born Harry James Potter, and it remained his true name till this day despite how much more titles he held and how much he had changed since he had still been addressed at such.

Whilst it was still technically his name he no longer identified himself with it. The truth of the matter was he had never been overly fond of it, just happy to _have_ an actual name. The first few years of his life he had actually been convinced his name was 'Freak' as it was the only thing other than 'boy' he was ever addressed as.

His years in the Wizarding World didn't help him learn to love it either, what with their insistent need to attaching the stupid Boy-Who-Lived moniker to it( he's definately smelling Dumb-As-Door's influence there) and having ludicrous image of him that they were only to glad to throw in his face when things did not fit in their image of him, something that happened every. other. Year!

The sad part was that their insistent need of attaching these stupid monikers and epithets to him wasn't quenched with 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' and soon was joined by more over the years he had ammased quite a collection;

The-Boy-Who-Lived

The-Boy-Who-Lied

The Chosen One ( he might just have hated that one the most that while the others were annoying this one he knew to be actually true and was followed by a disgusting 180 change in attitude towards him. Again that whole thing _stank_ of Dumblewhore.)

The Undesirable Number One (What does it say about himself and his life that he actually like that one the best?)

The-Man-Who-Conquered

Yeah how he wished that was the end of it. But the whole naming craze only really picked up at that point The-Man Who-Triumphed was soon followed by many more, he probably missed a dozen during his time of seclusion but they were probably just as ridiculous as The-Man-Who-Cheated followed by a slew of more unflattering ones that for the sake of his blood pressure he did not want to think about. It was safe to say that when The-Man-Who-Disappeared morphed into The-Man-Who-Turned-Dark he started setting the newspapers ablaze without a glance.

Which, as it later turned out, was a very grave mistake that he would regret for decades but Hindsight was a know-it-all, and more often than a huge bitch too.

With all the _love_ his name invoked it was a simple decision for him to decide 'fuck it all' and forsake that name that only ever brought him trouble and stick to the one that had been christened with upon joining the ranks of the Unspeakable's, it was not like he had others than his house elves who he maintained contact with privately anyway.

Yes, you heard correctly; he, who was never known for his great intellect and wholly ignorant just about almost everything, joined the ranks of he Unspeakables and walked the halls of the Department of Mysteries _legally._ Yes it was a shock for him too, especially considering he hadn't even been aware of their existence until his unfortunate fifth year… truly, thinking back his past cluelessness was positively cringe worthy. That he had been heavily manipulated and, as he later found out, weighed down by mental blocks, potions and compulsions was the only thing that made thinking back to his youth somewhat bearable. Really without that dubious mercy to cling to he would have rather oblivated himself.

So he was very lucky the DoM never waited for his application but chose to seek him out themselves, back then he might have been still stupid enough to reject the offer if the ministry and his so-called friends hadn't annoyed him so greatly just weeks before.

Despite being a decision made for all the wrong reasons, it ended up being the best decision he had ever made.

But that was beside the point now, he had come a long way from back then and whilst proudly making his codename his own, Serpentarius barely wasted time thinking of the past, especially the distant past. It was an annoying endeavor that left him filled with regrets and self-recrimination, the Dursleys continued disappearance being the only loose end tugging his mind back there... and after his enjoyable afternoon he could cross that of his list too.

Finally.

Even here sitting in the tub having just finished cleaning off their blood, it was still hard to believe that the last hours had truly happened, that he really had dealt out his revenge and had not simply dreamed of it as he had so often in the past. A part of him still numb with disbelief, pondered over the many years of fruitless searching, his tracking spells failing, all scrying attempts remaining unresponsive with all mediums, even compelling that muggle Interpol agent into a manhunt had turned out to be a dead end. He'd moped for months after that particular failure and would have believed them dead if it weren't for the proof assuring him of the opposite - a nifty little device he had nabbed from Dumblebore and attuned to the trio - confirming that they were, in fact, in disgustingly good health that prevailed through all the years of war.

... until today that was. Heh.

If he hadn't found out the truth before the war hit, that would have truly drove him insane, continuously seeing the evidence of their good health when the rest of the world suffered, but it so happened that just a few years before the war he had ran across one of the last live Order members in the mountains of China. What made the man think hiding there of all places was a good idea he'd never know, but he wouldn't protest as it played directly into his hands. Ravaging the mans mind, quickly revealed the truth behind his need to hide and what a pleasant surprise that had been.

The man had been hiding from _him_ all along.

It seemed when Harry first started his legal crusade against the Order and the backstabbing-Weasels, after they all so callously betrayed him and tossed him to the curb, they had been terrified at the new ruthless him that was completely free of their influence.

They had pushed him down and made him an anathema, he returned as the picture of what hey denied him, rising from the bottom of soceity as a cunning charismatic Pureblood Lord, wizards and witches weren't different from muggles in that they loved intrigued and enjoyed watching celebrities dirty laundry being aired even more. With a few whispers in the right ears he had the tables turned and the lot of them in court.

He had put the fear of the devil in them and they resorted to desperate and creative means. In an attempt to stop him from gaining more information about their dirty deeds and assuming correctly that he would seek out the Dursleys they tracked them down first, afraid that he would use them against them in front of the Wizengamont.

(Serpentarius held in a scoff, as if he would waste the reunion with something as meaningless as that, they clearly didn't know the real him at all - oh wait! It was _them_ that suppressed his personality and kept him weak and maleable after Dumblewhore bit the dust, _of course_ they hadn't had the pleasure yet.)

Naturally, that was before they found out – to their everlasting horror, he was sure – that Harry had no need for them and instead was in possession of their secret documents and files. They only learned that the day of the trial. The look on their faces when he pulled them out in front of the Wizengamont will forever fuel his patronus.

In a bid to silence the trio of muggles, yet being the hypocritical cowards they were they couldn't _kill_ them, they resorted to a desperate method that was almost the same.

The 'Sleeping Beauty' curse.

The curse was exactly what one would expect and was in fact where the fairytale originated from. Like the name suggested, it put the afflicted under a permanent stasis not unlike the Draught of Living Death only more all-encompassing and without the side-effects, remaining ageless as the time around them continued on. In magical history it had many uses raging from a patient with a deadly disease whose cure was not yet found to a way to find their soulmate since as opposed to the potion there was no antidote, only contact with a soulmate could jolt the one under the curse awake prematurely. The witch that the whole Grimm story was based on was a powerful Pureblood Heiress who had contracted a terminal magical disease that could only be cleansed by the soulmate, which a seer had told the distraught parents had yet to be born. Desperate her parents had pooled their magic and resources, creating the curse in a bid to save their beloved daughter. Once cast, her parents watched over her until their last days, the vast properties of the Ancient and Noble House sealing upon their deaths. Soon after when the first thieves appeared looking for profit, the family magic had reacted and the fabled hedges of thorns had sprung up to defend. From the texts he had perused in an attempt to find loopholes, and the old titles and rumours deciphered he had come upon the realisation that the House of Rosier were in fact descended of the witch in the tale. He wondered how that impacted their family magic?

Also he was very lucky that the Order had no hope of getting their hands on the original spell nor had the power to cast it, as the Heiress under the spell had lasted over three hundred years until her soulmate had finally been drawn to her, a scion of one of the premier vampire clans.

The adapted version used throughout magical history by healers, much like the Disney film suggested, lasted only a hundred years for which he was very thankful. He was willing to push back the ritual date for these hundred years as it had it's many uses and advantages, raging from getting their hands on muggle technology far superior than they would face in the past to honing their own strength and swelling their ranks - it didn't hurt that in the process they tormented the muggles that sat on their high horses - but by the love of magic, he wouldn't last the additional four hundred years the original spell would have lasted.

Not even for revenge on his childhood tormentors.

Unfortunately, the invulnerability to tracking and locating charms or rituals the curse granted while active persisted up to a decade later, a very frustrating side effect, he found out. The only way around it would have been using blood samples but the only DNS he ever had of them was a hair and that he had used before he even found out about the Sleeping Beauty Curse.

It was just like the Potter Luck (Yes that was actually a thing and deserved the capital letters, as it was something to be revered and feared in equal measures) that before the decade was out and a mere hours before their ritual, Morten had spotted them per chance just when he had given up on the hope of finding them in time.

Surely, he had thought, the walrus's layers of fat had smothered his heart by now or he had a heart attack when he flew off into one of his rages, the twig of bitter shrew that Petunia was wouldn't make it alone in this savage world that was so foreign to the one they were used to. But against all odds and expectations, they had lived.

There was something not right about that.

He didn't know if he should be disgusted or impressed how well those three had managed to integrate themselves into a hardened society that had zero tolerance for strangers and anything remotely unusual and three people in suspended stasis for the duration of the terrible war and beyond was not normal no matter how much one argued. The old saying proved true birds of a feather flocked together and the Dursleys' hatred for anything magical fell right in line with the views of the _True Humans._

(He had to sneer in distaste as even just thinking the name brought the taste of ashes in his mouth, that moniker clearly showed the hubris the race possessed wishing he could tell them exactly the true history of how muggles came into being, but he had better things to do with his time than waste his breath (even if their faces would be amusing) – spending **quality** time with his _family_ being one of those.)

Personally he thought they were more like cockroaches.

It had been interesting seeing them face to face again and their positions so clearly reversed. This time there had been no rules holding him back and tying his hands, no Dumbledore to conveniently appear and forcefully correct his behaviour, no Ministry of Magic waiting in the wings to punish him for any small infraction and the heavy irony was that it was all the muggles work that he could now do whatever he wished without opposition was not lost on him. A glorious fact he did not hesitate to share and had loved rubbing in their faces.

Over the years he had often wondered about the Durselys' reactions should they be there to see what the world had come to. Vividly remembering the hateful words his uncle had spat at him during the summers; before, during or after he had beaten him bloody, the walrus-muggle hybrid delighting in telling him - in excruciating detail - exactly what wizards deserved to suffer, had indeed suffered in the past and would suffer again once the government sniffed them out like rats.

His exact words.

Well he had quickly wiped that smugness of his face hadn't he, Serpentarius grinned. He had returned the favour in full and gleefully told them exactly what he had done to make the muggles fall from their once vaunted position at the top. And in a wonderful case of irony gone on to tell his loving not-family all about his organisations work, in _detail_ , while he punctuated his retellings with their screams at the appropriate places. They had been a generous audience in that regard even if they had no choice in the matter. It had been a true balm to the soul seeing his last childhood tormentors so helpless and under his complete mercy, which he had been very sad to assure them had run out a good seventy years ago when he stormed a lab and saw the true horrors muggles were willing to commit searching for the origin of magic.

Even with the limited time he had, he had made the most of it. Those hours of screams, curses and judicious revenge were ones he would never forget drenched in blood as they were, he dare say that was exactly the reason he liked them so much.

Still he could honestly say that the hunt and wait had been worth it, not something the him of a week ago could have proclaimed without biting his tongue. Had he got his hands on them when he first started looking, in a time still had traces of 'Harry' within him, he would have been incapable of really relishing in his well deserved vengeance, too weighed down by the lingering effects of the potions and compulsions that prevented his darker thoughts and desires.

Despite using his trusty time-turner he still had them for only 35 hours and forty minutes… that just wasn't enough to get all the bottled aggression of his childhood out of his system and hadn't been close to the weeks of torture they justly deserved. Serpentarius' inner child that would always be the last bit of Harry that he'd managed to preserve, whined within his mind his lips pulling into a pout as he sulked, why did time-turners have to have a 24 hour limit?

(Well he knew why but he didn't have to like it.)

He could have brought them back here and into one of their time dilation chambers but that would have actually meant bringing them here – into his property and sanctuary of magicals, into the building that his ancestors had constructed and he had made his home…

yeah that was so not happening they would just dirty it with their presence.

Not to mention there would have been no time to clean the mess up afterwards, it would have taken far too long – he shuddered at the reaction of the clean up crew if he had left the mess. Serpentarius winced, Adelheit's reaction to the bit of stained acrumantula silk had been enough, the devil secretary would have surely forced him to decontaminate the entire tower, really he often wondered if being a leader was worth it in between dealing with the towers of paperwork, the wacked subordinates that alternated between cute and baffling, the insanity that was the R&D department and the stern secretaries with hidden sadistic tendencies. Thinking about the mess he left behind in the THS distracted him nicely from that grim musing, smirking he leaned back sinking further into the warm scented water with a dreamy sigh.

 _Besides_ , Serpentarius thought satisfied, _if all goes as planned I'll have a second session to look forward to in the future._

It had been the most enjoyable and pleasant time spent in their company and he looked forward to a repeat. It had only been one and a half days instead of the weeks that they justly deserved but what a wonderful 36 hours they had been.

He could still hardly believe that they had been found hours before his planned departure, aforementioned Potter Luck cutting it unnervingly close as per usual, but what a nice farewell present that had been. One he had enjoyed to his hearts content and intended to savour every second he would be forced to bear their presence again in the future - or was it more accurate to say 'in the past'?

The sound of splashing water and desperately hissed curses brought him back into the here and now. The sight that greeted him was as amusing as it was exasperating. With a circling motion and upward flick of his finger the buoyancy of the water underneath the struggling snake was increased and brought his klutz of a familiar closer to the surface.

:$$: _How many times will I have to rescue you before you learn. No swimming after you ate._ :$$: he said dryly throwing a pointed look at he huge bulges disfiguring the sleek scaled body, it's usually streamlined body misshapen.

:$$: _But it's so nice and warm_ :$$: if it were possible the snake would have puffed out it's cheeks in indignation. Somehow he still managed an impressive pout and huge watery reproachful eyes (again, he had no idea how he managed that, but he had the silent suspicion that all the magic that his familiar didn't use for it's special talents was directed into manipulation, it was just like that sly little snake of his to use the magic to enable himself to have human-like expressions - he certainly had the inflated ego for it.) Serpentarius couldn't resist the smile that came to his lips as he saw the snake swim towards him with those big watery eyes and scooped him up so he could settle comfortably beside and on him – that little Slytherin, knowing exactly what to do to to get out of any trouble.

It were a few enjoyable long minutes for both wizard and snake as they lazed in the warmth letting strained muscles relax as they were coddled by a cloud of warm steam and heavenly water where they sank into it's depth so only their heads peeked out. This was the life, a bath and the constant itch for revenge finally settled, Serpentarius felt a weightlessness that wasn't just due to the water. Hmmm...

Master stiffened as he felt a hand clamp on his shoulder with a steel grip, a chill travelling up his back and his the hair at the back of his neck stood on end as his survival instincts started howling.

"No sleeping. We are not finished." A demonic voice intoned from behind him.

...

He took it back. He stared into the manic eyes behind the fogged lenses, in dawning horror. He took it all back!

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* * *

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Cackling could be heard throughout the tower, followed by the get in the mood playlist that spelled doom for the one in her company. It was make over time and she had a new victim. There was a collective shudder. It seems the demon and her harpies struck again and dragged another one of her victims into her closet, hopefully Master rescued the poor soul soon or they feared for their sanity…

If only they knew.

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* * *

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Back in the office crouched over a sheef of papers Caleb heaved a sigh and exchanged glances with his fellow, this was going to take a while.

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 **-)§(-**

 **.**

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 _ **You may – or may not – have noticed that I never mentioned the snake's name. The reason is very simple I found the perfect name (that of some minor Japanese deity), wrote it down and now I can't find it anywhere! I lost it! T.T**_

 _ **That goes to show you why you should NOT clean your room. I don't know how many loooonnng hours I looked for that stupid name in the internet but no such luck, an entire week of my life wasted, so frustrating! BUT Sleep Deprived Me had the best idea; I'll let my lovely readers deal with the problem! Genius right?**_

 _ **So if you have any suggestions for a name please don't be shy.**_

 _ **Here's some basic info to make finding a name for the scaly familiar easier;**_

 _ **He is a magical snake of many talents that both help him sneak around aswell as the ability to completely kill anything in his surroundings – yes he is VERY deadly. He's an incorrigible kleptomanic and manipulative and not above creating chaos if it suit his needs.**_

 _ **I'm open to any suggestions as long as it fits the criteria of being the name of a minor god or deity, doesn't matter which pantheon or how unknown aslong as it fits with the info above somewhat.**_

 _ **(Loki and Jormungand are out, I have something else in mind for them.)**_

 _ **Please leave any suggestions you have in a review.**_

 _ **Review answer corner;**_

 _ **Casster123: Harry, or in this case Master Serpentarius, would never condone child soldiers and neither do I! I've hinted at it slightly but I'll state this clearly: although they all seem mostly below ten, they are not. Don't let their youthful appearance fool you. Due to factors I won't explain in too much detail yet, the new generations of magicals born after the war have a slower aging rate(some more than others). Although they look like little kids most would be in their late teens/early twenties and had to complete rigorous testing before they were allowed to step out of the wards. You will note that Kara(the white-haired pyromaniac) whose real age could be estimated at twelve, was not there at the start of the mission and only appeared after most of the fighting was done and the facility firmly in their grasp. The future world I'm describing here is harsh and has no regard for ages, but we all know the bleeding heart Harry is, from his own experiences childhood is something he respects even more so since he never had one, even war would not change something so fundamental about our favourite emerald-eyed hero.**_

 _ **I hope that cleared things up.**_


	6. Prologue V

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of it's franchise, I have to be satisfied with owning copies of all seven books and the DVD's._**

 ** _Warnings: Not much really, just unashamed worship of a superior and waxing lyrically about said superior._**

* * *

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 _'Where there is magic, insanity and chaos follow.'_

\- Serpentarius, Master of Orphiuchus. Formerly Harry James Potter.

.. ..

:

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Prologue V

30th July 2107

North Sea

Orphiuchus Headquarters, The Black Tower.

Master's Office

20:32...

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This proved once again that their Master could not be a mere mortal.

Over a hundred and twenty years since his birth and he still looked like a man of his mid-twenties his black hair thick and glossy his skin radiant and his body possessing a languid elegance one had to be born with, it was only his brilliant eyes that alluded to his true age as they held a wisdom and strength that could only be won through surviving many trials and decades of experiences. Those glowing emerald orbs alight with a inner fire were always the first that drew their eyes and gave truth to the whispers that the blood of gods flowed in his veins, and this time was no different, as they startled at his sudden appearance never having heard his silent approach.

His gait inhumanly fluid and otherworldly, Master glided back into the office, clad in a silken artwork of far eastern fabrics and dye, coming together to hug his lithe body, the dashes of bright colour on the midnight silk and accentuating the best of his features, creating a vision that would not be amiss in the legends of the old eastern deities.

No, no human could ever possess such grace or heart-stopping beauty nor be enveloped in such a the heavy aura of magic that seduced the senses and gave his innocent form an edge of danger. They could just stay and stare at him and bask in his presence for the whole day and never get tired of it, merely being in his presence was so lulling and paradoxically invigorating, that they never wanted to part.

It was the sharp clearing of a throat of an impatient Head Secretary that had the two young agents snap back out of their daze and hasten to follow their object of reverence, who had foregone his rightful place behind the imposing mahogany desk and crossed the room to the adjoining lounge. Scrambling up they followed the the long, billowing sleeves of the black silk embroidered with green and purple, their eyes drawn from the indigofolds of the obi higher to the wide neckline showing stunning contrast of white where elaborate hairstyle alowed unhindered and tantalising view of smooth skin like the purest of snow.

(While his subordinates stared star-truck at his back, Serpentarius was just glad to be free at last, he never wanted to go through that again. His entire skin prickled slightly from where that **_demon_** and her harpies not only ripped out his every hair but used a grooming spell that some sadistic witch had invented that gave a pore deep cleansing, his poor skin... TT3TT

He gingerly settled on his favoured mound of fluffy cushions and waited for the others to follow, a sleeve slipping and exposing one of his shoulders at the motion, he didn't bother correct it as there was no hope it would stay in place what with the natural wide cut and the amount of oils that had been rubbed into his skin. He would smell like sakura blossoms and cinnamon for weeks, he just knew it! Thank Morgana the ritual was a mere hours away. He only had this last meeting to get out of his way before he had her off his back, he hoped it would run smoothly, just this once.)

Caleb and Aiden gulped as their eyes fell on their dolled up Master, the two thanking any deity that would listen that their dreaded teenage hormones had yet to set in or this would have been an awkward nightmare. Say what you want about the demon hag and her spartan abuse but she knew beauty and fashion of any kind, creating true artworks. They settled opposite their Master as close as they dared and tried not to stare too much and keep their eyes averted of the lounging form of their Master lounging on the mound of large, brightly coloured cushions.

It was hard, especially when the person in question was totally oblivious to the vision of temptation he presented as one sleeve of the silken kimomo slid off his shoulder and exposed an expanse of pale skin glowing like the purest of snow. Despite the two of them being before puberty they could feel a stirring within themselves, pure adulation had no age limit it seemed.

Before they could even get one word out - or make total fools out of themselves - a wave of magic swept past them and toward Master, who didn't even twitch as his immediate surroundings morphed from stone and bright fabrics to silk, tatami and wood, the Persian touch vanishing to a purely traditional Japanese one complete with the huge wooden and inked rice paper sliding doors behind him.

Master shot a dry look at his official left hand, who radiated smugness and whose right hand was making suspicious motions behind that clipboard of hers, which he was very sure to be spelled transparent from the other side, nor did he need to hear the faint tell-tale clicking to know that she was on full on fangirl mode. At least even then her character ensured that it was discreet. Small mercies.

Better give her something that will satisfy that particular beast for the next few weeks, so she could get it out of her system. Straightening up slightly so he was more resting on the cushions than lounging, he arranged his hands on his lap the folds of his long sleeves spreading elegantly about him in layers of silk, exposing the play of dye and embroidery in all it's glory.

Tilting his chin up, face set in an aloof mask of disinterest and superiority he stared down at them, his powerful emerald eyes boring into them as if they could see straight through them into their very soul. "Report." he ordered, his voice a silky purr.

It was too much.

It was like looking into the sun; a mere mortal could never comprehend it's magnificence.

The imposing and tantalising juxtaposition, a punch to the stomach and resulted in Caleb and Aiden pitched backwards, knocked out with a small trail of blood leaking from their nostrils and a stupid grin on their faces, that vision of pure beauty and dignified aura of Royalty just too much for them.

Meanwhile Adelheit seemed to be frozen in stone and would be the perfect imitation of a statue if it wasn't for her finger reflexively moving up and down at insane speeds, on the inside it was a different matter; the stern woman was squealing to high heaven and jumping and dancing around, spraying blood everywhere with her nosebleed as her closet fangirl went on a rampage. Luckily for the health of Serpentarius' mind(and ears) the only outward sign was the sparkle in the air about her and her fogged up glasses.

Sigh. He'd overdone it.

If this went on he was going to sit here tomorrow.

This would be so much easier if they would just let him read the reports and call them for clarification if needed instead of them all giving it personally and then having him read it, but the one time he even suggested such a thing he nearly had a revolt on his hands and everywhere he went he was met with teary eyes and moping pouts. With their youthful faces that was a a scarily devastating weapon, he was proud of himself to have lasted long enough to managed to wrangle them down to one person per squad during the routine missions, instead of the lot of them who _subtly_ competed for his attention during reports.

(What he did not know; that new regulation had the entirety of the force engaging in a variety of fights and competition within squads and teams to win the right to the one-on-one access to their Master. Adelheit was pleased with the vast leaps and bounds all of their statistics did during the fierce infighting. There had never been a better motivator.)

With another sigh, Master pulled the diligently written reports to him and began reading without protest as the two were out for the count and Adelheit was immersed in a fangirl daze.

.

 **-)§(-**

 **.**

The door creaked, slowly being pushed ajar until one topaz eye peered inside taking in the inhabitants before settling upon the green-eyed raven and lighting up. Slipping inside she marched across the room without a word, clad in a soft white and gold Japanese kimono tied with a pure white obi and pushed herself through the two imbeciles before finally settling onto the midnight kimono clad lap. The room was silent as the slip of the girl continued to cuddle into their Masters chest, a small smile of bliss on her face.

Caleb choked on his words at the audacity. It was embarrassing enough that he fell unconscious in Master's presence and failing his order in doing so - he really couldn't help himself with the elegant backdrop and Master's pure Masterness he looked like an emperor of old - no a God, a prideful _sultry_ God of temptation! - he also had problems giving his report now that he was finally able to, stuttering and stumbling over his words every time he met those blazing emerald eyes or noticed another detail.

Note to self; get his hands on one of those photo's the demon was so busy making. If he had to steal - or worse beg for - one so be it, but he was going to have one in his collection.

It was the first time he was glad for the presence of the demon Head Secretary as it was only her threat that kept wandering eyes and fantasies at bay as, though pleased of the results of her work, she would not tolerate any lapse in concentration during work and especially not whilst in front of their superior. The fear of her wrath was an excellent motivation for self-control - also photos!

But that wasn't the point and had his teeth grinding, it was that interloper! It was already bitter to have to share with Aiden, he had _won_ that Dice of Doom challenge fair and square and wanted his just reward of Master's undivided attention but it was like the whole tower was against that.

First the Demon Secretary stealing Master before he could even start his report, then that sly bastard Morten manipulating himself into sharing a bath with Master and a buxom blond and now that little upstart! No way were they letting her ruin _his_ time with Master too, this was the last day he would be in that godlike body of his and Caleb was determined to enjoy every second of it.

 _"Kara."_ Aiden hissed from the right one, violet eyes glowing from beneath a golden fringe. "Just because the Morgensterns are indisposed does _not_ mean you have a free pass at Master."

"That's right, stop hogging Master all to your self!" Caleb was swift to add, murder in his eyes.

The now named Kara, opened one topaz eye the other stayed firmly snuggled into the silk clad chest, gave them a defiant look before closing her eye again and curling up with a content sigh.

That little shit!

The two bristled at the total dismissal, mentally spitting insults in their jealousy. If only her ability to blow nearly anything up wasn't so terrifying…

As one they turned to their last hope; the feared Secretary of Doom, surely she would drag that cheeky little upstart away for being disrespectful. They were sorely disappointed, and sweat dropped at what they saw. The fearsome head secretary and head of the managing department had a faint blush on her cheeks as she discreetly had her camera out, her finger vibrating with the speed she snapped photos.

Ah how could they have forgotten the frosty demon of the Secretary department was not only the strict pedantic uptight bitch (a particular description that they all agreed with but would never dare speak out loud) that enjoyed nitpicking their reports was a huge fan of cuteness and beauty. It was probably why the sneak was clad in that elaborate white and gold embroidered kimono. Hilda must have helped her, really for a Harpy she was putty in the hands of any cute kid, her and her huge weakness for anything related to cuteness, children and especially cute innocent children or 'adorable little angels' as he'd heard her , she was even worse than Adelheit with fashion only she was so shamelessly out of the closet that he often wished to push her back in.

(That had nothing to do with how often she stole his precious Minette from him. Really! Even if he had to smile through grit teeth and bite his tongue until it was thrice it's usual size as he to watch her sink her claws into his sister... Minette always had such a huge smile coming back...)

If they weren't so frustrated and festering with envy, they would have admired her cunning.

As it was, they stewed in outrage, accepting their loss with ill grace but their evil eyes were promptly hidden when they heard a low amused chuckle and met observant green eyes dancing with mirth. Serpentarius smiled in amusement and wrapped an arm around the clinging pyromaniac, running his fingers through the just-below-shoulders long hair, deciding to not address the elephant in the room and left his subordinates to their small squabbles – they were too adorable, the lot of them – choosing not to reprimand them, enjoying their bouts of childishness far too much. Instead he steered the conversation back to the mission.

"I assume the facility was blown from the face of earth after all was said and done."

A pleased hum and enthusiastic fist pump from the girl on his lap was all he needed. No wonder Kara had sought him out she was fond in rewarding herself in the form of cuddles and getting homage for her _fiery_ talents. He rubbed her head in silent praise and she leaned into his hand with a content sigh.

"Hmm... did you secure the software aswell?"

"Yes!" Caleb straightened and went into detail of his joint work with Elliot to get their hands on the latest the programmers were capable, involving extracting it on their specially manifactured disks and secured into magic insulating vessel that was a nightmare to keep on person as due to it's nature it was unshrinkable and so rather cumbersome in their tight sleek armours of hide and had to be affixed along the body in a pouch.

"Good." Master purred his eyes narrowed in malicious delight that was echoed around the room.

The Muggles were so screwed before they were ever able to think of the words 'True Human'.

"I trust that the obtained weapons, prototypes and documents were all secured in their appropriate places." Master inquired going through the last page, depicting the detailed inventory of their haul, it was an impressive list.

Adelheit pushed up her glasses the glint of light obscuring her eyes for a moment. "I insured that all regulations were fulfilled to the dot. I corrected any flaws and completely took over after Mikhail deserted his post."

Uwah. That tone of voice was pure ice and that flash of glasses just plain evil, Caleb was very glad that he wasn't in Mikhail's skin, that reaction was just plain ominous for his future... or is it past as he already strategically retreated - or is it future in the past... gah! that rubbish always confused him to no end!

"Morten took over the main task with the rest of the returned squad. That was before learning of your return, now the sorting is completed I just got the notice from Old Richard. Morten and the rest of the returnees have all… retired." Adelheit finished hesitating after the last word.

"Their identification numbers."

He was handed a sheet of paper. "They have been deposited at the specified locations."

Green eyes flew over the list, committing the information to memory. Excellent.

He checked the clock hanging on the wall beside him and took note of the time. He smiled, carefully getting to his feet and handing the asleep Kara over to Adelheit. "It is time."

Master turned to the last two, "Go, leave the rest to me and the others."

.

 **-)§(-**

 **.**

Warm orange and yellow light danced and reflected of the polished black marble as a trail of fire lightened the long corridor, much brighter than the one burning in the levels below that served more to hinder than aid, no this corridor was bright and cheerful as the flames danced merrily in their stone alcoves. if a bit eerie due to the colouring, that Master strode down it with a cloak swirling about him and a plush toy in his hands was oddly fitting. His feet ghosted silently over the smooth marble and up steps, past pillars and arches that gave sight into huge high ceiling-ed halls, all empty of life.

Having shed the resplendent far eastern robes and donned his favoured style a silvery grey cloak now fell from his shoulders the wide hood falling down his back at the moment, only his elaborate up-do evidence of his former torture. His legs comfortably clad in black-green basilisk hide trousers molding to him like a second skin and allowing for full range movement and required no second person or magical aide to get in and out off.

The cloak fluttered softly about the muscled body, blowing in a breeze that wind it's way inside through the many arches leading to the upper central courtyard with it's many fountains, causing the fires to flicker an brightened with new zeal as Serpentarios glided past the bright flashes showing his form only in flashes as he went from shadow to light only his emerald eyes were always visible glowing from among the shadows or glinting in the fire shine. He looked truly in his element, the image of a powerful battle mage, a true magical warrior of old yet in his hands there was no weapon or staff... but a plush toy.

That sight would have given anyone pause should they have been there to witness it as it clashed completely with the image the rest of him presented. But even on a second look the innocuous plushie remained. Clasped in one arm was a grey black stuffed wolf toy with amber marble eyes and one floppy ear and an emerald bow around the neck. But as no one was there to see no questions were asked and Master continued on his way uninterrupted.

Releasing his tight grip on his magic, it flowed free of its confines unfolding and spreading further stretching out gleefully, like toes freed from too tight shoes. It was a good thing that he was alone as not many could handle the full pressure of his magical aura, jumping in fright when his magic brushed against them inquisitively, as they should; it was a little known fact but over time magic takes on a personality and quality that is so much more than a mere magical signature and he had spent so many years experimenting and absorbing poisons and acids that his magic had …well, adapted. Incredible useful in combat, not so much when a person you never met surprises you or approaches you wrong.

But he was alone. It was so freeing releasing his Magic without care, his shoulders relaxed and his insides and muscles lost a tenseness he hadn't been aware of until it was gone and he gained another sense beyond the usual human five. As his magic unfurled, it told him many things; unconsciously noting the traces of magic left behind by a magical, the magic contained in the floor under his feet and in the fire burning along the walls, said fire turning an acidic green interspersed with that particular shade one could only term as AK green wherever it came in contact with his magic. It also confirmed what the wards and intel had already told him; he was alone.

He just completed the last patrol through the building and all that was left was one small but infinitely important detail. with one small detail left, as he climbed the stairs back up, having forgone his shortcuts for once in favour for the nostalgia that gripped him, now he regretted that a little.

He didn't like it much. It was silent as a grave.

He could feel the emptiness in the tower, not only by courtesy of the wards but by the absolute silence. For decades the Black Tower had served as the Headquarters of Ophiuchus, becoming home to thousands of magicals that had survived the purges and then the long war, and their descendants. One might not notice if one didn't know but the tower was far larger than it looked and not just because of spatial expansion charms inside, but by the false image presented by a lone tower with no other buildings around and only trees supported that deceit instead of hindering it.

The remaining trees surrounding the base and the parcel of land of this small island aided in creating the false picture by simply existing, as they themselves were über-dimensional tall, easily dwarfing the impressive specimen of the the Forbidden Forest by several dozen yards and so creating the natural distortion of perception. It was when one stood infront of the gates and stared up that one realised the sheer mass of stone that pierced 903 feet into the sky.

Forty-seven floors high and an underground expansion beyond the simple basement and three dungeon layers, the tower was a massive complex that dwarfed structures such as Hogwarts easily in it's sheer volume, as not only did it deserve the title of skyscraper by modern standards, it was positively mammoth.

With it's ever shifting interior and innate magical quirks it was unnavigatable to outsiders which, considering it original intent and use when it was constructed by his ancestors over three thousand years ago, was no coincidence. It was a bona fide labyrinth harbouring many deadly traps to conceal and protect all within. There were corridors and halls where one could never tread upon the lines in the floor, were inlaid with enchantments that prevented any magic cast, filled with a gaseous hallucinogen or even sections that were perpetually wreathed in darkness... these were only a few of these defenses the people living in this tower had grown used to and embraced as normal in their home like the smooth marble floors and the expansive windows of the higher levels.

With it's many secrets and mysteries there was one thing that was never possible withing the mamoth magical structure; true solitude. Despite it's truly obscene size and it's many hidden and nooks and crannies, one could always hear one sign of life or another. Even if a silencing spell was used or one of the more elaborate wards, one could still feel the tower tremble when one of the R&D divisions labs exploded again – which happened up to at least twice a day when they were at their most zealous - and one could feel the echoes of voices and life from all around.

(The only place absolute peace and quiet could be found were the archives and the attached library and that was only because a generous amount of magic was involved aswell as Mikhail, who reinforced the regulations with a religious intensity that scared any offender stiff. The boy defended his sanctuary like a dragon it's hoard.

Serpentarius' lips quirked, he was so cute.)

It was never silent, and that's just the way he liked it.

The air was always ripe with clashes of steal, shouts and curses echoing from the training halls, running and stomping footsteps in the corridors and down the stairs, shouting, laughter…

Yes, somedays he truly doubted if he really lead a highly-trained organisation of rebels and assassins or simply a madhouse posing as one. Sometimes it was really hard to tell. That phenomena could be summed up neatly in one word; Magic.

Where there is magic, insanity and chaos follow. It was something he had learned early on in life. At the start he'd been baffled at wizards seemingly lack of common sense but he understood soon after all in the world where dragons and unicorns were real but also had hedges that tried to eat you, screaming plants that could kill you, plants that tried to strangle you and even one that looked innocent would try to infect you and eat you from the inside to turn you into a walking rose bush… in a world where where even gardening was a dangerous job and the most innocuous thing could kill you it was no wonder every inhabitant was bat-shit insane you had to be as normal and common sense did not survive in that environment. It was wiser to join the insanity that governed it lest they end as a nervous, paranoid wrecks everytime they even _thought_ about leaving their heavy-duty wards.

Then again he wouldn't have it any other way, it was the little things that made life interesting. His lips twitched as he walked past the glass doors leading to the greenhouses that housed their more... _lively_ species. It was tradition now to have the new recruits in rotation there, tending the plants after their graduation. That the recreation rooms were filled with all off-duty members ringed around the scrying mirrors during the first time they entered was part of it too.

Ahh the amount of blackmail photos he collected was satisfying each time. No judging, in this type of organisation that was mostly ruled by the juvenile or the actual teens and kids, sometimes a bit off force was needed to keep them in line, so it was natural that he himself had yet to miss a single one of the premiers, though it took so many years; he finally understood Neville's fascination. Magical plants were awesome, terrifying sadistic and beyond all logic but awesome none the less.

Not for nothing was this floor the source of the most girliest and high pitched screams and screeches of the entire island.

No matter, the Tower was built with quality it would survive most anything, with that knowledge he had no problem in leaning back and listening to the cacophony of chaos that tended to echo through the halls loud enough to reach even the highest floor, it always brought a satisfied smile to his lips. To his ears it was a constant reminder that he was not alone, it was the proof that they were alive, and some days it seemed to him as if all the life and energy missing from the rest of the world was concentrated right here, in this building, as it positively teemed with life.

Now the entire Tower was silent as a tomb. As he said; He didn't like it.

So to be faced with the yawning silence had his back prickle in discomfort.

It was a disturbing feeling seeing the usually lively place so empty and silent. To listen and hear nothing at all, not even with his sharp hearing, not even his own soft steps upon the hard stone floor… It was simply unnatural to him.

His grip tightened on the plush wolf and Serpentarius sped up his steps, consciously letting them echo in the corridor.

Slipping through a wall that wasn't a wall and taking a winding staircase upwards he was in a dead end hall with just a large window showing a view of the sickly yellow clouds dyed a bright fiery red and purple be the unseen sun as it set. There illuminated by the reddish light, was a large ouroboros carved into the black marble floor, it's massive head alone having a diameter of three feet. Coming to stand on said head, Serpentarius stamped on the snout where it bit it's tail and stood calmly as the floor beneath his feet writhed and the snake seemed to come alive and slide lower into the floor as it slithered in a spiral inward taking him with it to the floor below.

With a brisk stride Serpentarius strode into the Master suite, his private rooms, and crossed through the generous sitting room with it's large fireplace and comfortable leather armchairs and sofa and through the double doors to his bedroom where he paused to admire it for a moment. It was lavish in a certain understated way without all the unnecessary pomp he saw some rooms equipped in times past, following a scheme of black with emerald, silver and gold accents, with finely crafted wooden pieces but the crowning jewel was the bed itself being a work he treasured most.

It was the focal point of the room, large king-sized with black silk covers and fluffy emerald, royal blue and purple pillows, it invited for naps but it was the frame that was the real eye-catcher; the wood was elder wood of the purest white and it was from his families hidden grove's and it was not simply cut wood pieced together to make a frame. It wasn't any elder wood but from a rare magical specimen that once cut could sprout and grow anew. The 'everlasting elders' it was known as, a magical tree that once leafed stayed like that until severed or burned. It had been lovingly carved and the new offshoots that had grown were guided into the desired shape to make up the headboard and spread it's branches above to make a canopy of silver leaves that this rare variant was known for and would never wilt. What one didn't notice at first glance was, blended in with the wood were dragon bones carefully woven into the framework, barely distinguishable from the smooth wood but lending it it's own innate properties.

The result was truly magical and the bed seemed to posses a inviting tranquil aura, firmly radiating it's own magic. It had been a gift from his new family, one they had laboured together and had been created amidst the worst circumstances but that made it all the more precious to him, as during the process their feelings had bled into their work and magic and forever engraved their feelings into it's aura, he only had to reach out and he could feel the familial love as, though they did not share a drop of blood, their bonds were deep and true.

With a faint smile he stepped forward and set the plush wolf onto the silk sheets, before turning his back and concentrating on the real reason for his last walk through the empty halls.

Stepping forward Serpentarius lay his palm against the cool stone of the empty stretch of wall and letting it taste his magic, the heavy stone giving way under his palm a moment later as the slid away with a silent woosh granting him entry. Torches burst alight with green flames, throwing their flickering light upon the stored things inside. This was his private treasury, containing the treasures he valued above all else and couldn't bear not having them near.

Despite the many glittering priceless artifacts that would have anyone mesmerised by their beauty and overwhelmed by greed, Serpentarius only had eyes for one. In the center of the room set on a pedestal was a large object of crystal and ebony that looked a cross between a coffin and a futuristic pod the muggles had been so eager to dream up for their sci-fi moves but had yet to come even close to accomplish. This similarity was no coincidence because that was exactly what it was. Peering through the see-through surface at the figure slumbering within, his heart clenched to see the peaceful face.

Swallowing the lump in his throat Serpentarius stared at the figure that was untouchable by outside influences, eyes gliding hungrily over the features, to reassure himself that there was no change since his last visit mere days ago.

After a moment he unlatched the fastenings with quick movements before pausing, one wasn't supposed to open the pod and disturb the perfect atmosphere within yet he felt himself compelled to. He could not bear the thought of not touching and assuring himself one last time that all was well before he went through with their plans for tonight.

The knowledge that, even if everything went according to plan – a very seldom occurrence whenever he was involved – it would be a long time ( _ **years!**_ ), before he would be able to see these features again, was weighing heavily upon him. He did not want to chance that his last memory would be that of only a distant image distorted by the misty vapours within.

Sliding a bloody finger over a faintly blue glowing rune, he watched as they turned red and dulled, the mist sinking back into the vibrant blue, almost gaseous liquid and sinking to the floor as the laws of gravity, once more, took effect, only small wisps of moisture still ghosted over the vibrant blue touching hair and clothes of his beloved within. The lid opened soundlessly giving Master, who suddenly resembled his younger self much more than the war hardened leader he had become over the years, the first unhindered view of one of the reasons that had made him persevere through all these long and terrible decades.

Hesitantly he reached inside and slid his fingers across warm skin marveling anew at it's softness and the sheer life that sparked beneath his fingers at the mere contact. A brilliant smile lit his features his face losing none of it tenderness, it still being apparent in his every gesture and his soft green gaze.

It was good to have come here a last time.

Just looking in from beyond the glass at the unmoving, unchanging figure was unbearable sometimes, as if he was staring at a corpse. That was why he needed this so much. To touch warm skin and feel the blood thrum under his fingertips, to feel the life and remind himself what he was fighting for and what exactly was at stake tonight. Brushing back silky strands of hair, that despite all expectations stayed dry and soft, he leant down and pressed his lips to the smooth exposed forehead. Inhaling the sweet, familiar scent that he had almost forgotten but was now burned into his mind in stark clarity, until this moment not knowing how much he had missed it.

"Soon." He breathed, making his word a promise. "When you next awaken, it will be in a better world far from the harsh cruelties of this one. It will be under a blue sky. I'll make sure of it."

With a last affectionate gesture he cupped the angelic face and brushed a calloused thumb along the cheek below the crescent of the closed eye.

He abruptly snatched his hand back, straightening, knowing if he did not he would be tempted to linger. With nimble fingers he swiftly and deftly re-latched the lid and secured the additional locks before reactivating the parsel runes, with a hissed command, the whole contraption shrinking down to matchbox size. Cautiously he left the concealed safe and returned to his quarters, his mind still on the life literally in the palm of his hand.

At least they were not alone, the faithful companion bedded right beside, even asleep wrapped around the other in an protective embrace, all dark fur, steel muscles and fierce fangs. One could only pity the one that dared to try open the casket that as not him.

 _The nosy individual would be minced meat before they could scream_ , he observed, his pleased smile belying any sympathy.

Carefully picking up the plush wolf, he lay it on it's back and revealed the open gash in it's stomach it's white filling spilling out slightly obscuring the treasures already hidden within. With care he inserted the shrunken casket his movements deliberate and eyes attentive as it disappeared within. The tip of his index finger glowed a faint emerald green as he swiped it over the gash sealing it shut as if had never been there all that was left was the shiny grey faux fur that despite it's ordinary appearance was so laden with all types of impervious charms a tank could blast and then roll over it without it sustaining the slightest scratch. Once again reaching out, emerald eyes watched in satisfaction as his finger slid right through the layer of fabric and touched the cool hard material inside without resistance, the same happening when he tried again with his left hand.

Perfect.

"So it's done, boy?" Harry caught the intense green eyes, the exact same shade and shape as his own, looking at him from the painted regal face of his ancestor, hung above the fireplace of his sitting room.

His throat still slightly clogged by emotions, Serpentarius answered with a curt nod.

"Inform me how it went if you survive."

The words had his lips quirking up at the so typical delivery. The order was almost dismissive and uncaring, but Serpentarius knew better. The distinguished man had alternately fretted silently or looked over his shoulder anxiously and offering astute observations as he poured over the plans during the last few months adding the finishing touches for today. There was nothing left to say and he was not a man to wish you luck when the sheer effort invested eliminated the need for it.

Now their success was in the hands of Fate and Magick and not in those of mortals.

"I have your smaller portrait safely stored away." He informed, gingerly picking up the stuffed animal loath to even jostle it despite the protections, it's cargo was precious.

"Hmm then get on with it and stop dawdling."

"Yes, Lord Grandfather." He responded cheekily with a dramatic bow before promptly slipping away into the shadows before he could be scolded, reappearing in front of the big gates outside a moment later, taking his place at the head of the waiting contingent of his escort.

He had a destiny to fulfill.

* * *

 _ **Here it is the second to last part of the Prologue.**_

 _ **Who can guess the identity of 'Lord Grandfather'?**_

 _ **And who was the one in the casket who our hero loves so dearly?**_

 _ **I'm looking forward to your theories, REVIEW below**_

 _ **PS I'm still waiting for name sugggestions for HP's/Serpenarius' snake familiar!**_

 _ **Seriously Review!**_


	7. Prologue VI

**Disclaimer: _I don't own Harry Potter or any of it's franchise._**

 ** _Warnings: Gore, a lot - a lot \- of blood, suicide(does sacrificing oneself in a ritual count as suicide?), murder..._**

 **Review Answers corner**  
 _ **A 'Thank You' to all who took their time to review!**_

 **jh831** _**: Yes it got rather long didn't it? At first I had planned three at most since I'm an impatient reader myself and usually want to get to the interesting parts fast but it was either give the most info at the start like this and little tidbits here and there or have these huge flashbacks inbetween that I hate even more. (Really there's nothing more frustrating than reading a good HP x-over and then suddenly have this huge flashback of the entire Hogwart's years spanning at least seven chapters!) So this was a necessary evil or the OCs to come would just make no sense or seem too extreme in their dislike for all things muggle and seem nothing more than pureblood snobs. And don't worry; this is the last 'Prologue' chapter.**_

 **anon69** _ **: The person in the casket is 100% Cannon. I look forward if anyone can guess who, since i only gave one teeny-tiny hint.**_

 _ **storybook thumb : Don't we all? If you have any favourites please don't hesitate to point them out, it might just be one I haven't read yet.**_

 **One Punch Saitama** _**:I never would have thought of it, I could pair it with the nickname Oro (meaning gold in spanish) which fits right into the criteria that the snake is a compulsive kleptomaniac with a fascination with all that sparkles and glitters. Only problem being I really want to stroke that snakes god complex and have Harry regret ever naming him that. There's still several chapters until I need a name for sure and if no one makes a better suggestion...this certainly is a good alternative, so thank you very much.**_

* * *

.

"Where there's a will there's a way"

.. ..

:

* * *

 **30th July 2107,**

 **Former Scotland**

 **Region of the Forbidden Forest,**

 **23:43**

.

Sharp green eyes raked over the rune matrix with a discerning eye to ensure it's perfection. Stretching out on the ground before him, it was impressive in it's size and intricacy, spanning thirty feet with some details a mere half-inch in size, it was a true masterpiece of Runes, Arithmancy and Astrology and mind boggling in it's complexity,but Serpentarius was well familiar with the design as it was one of his most prized creations and seeing finally coming to life felt good.

The ground stones for it had been lain a century prior, having been developed after years of combing through his family vaults and devouring magical theories in the DoM, unlimited access to even the most classified files after the fall may have helped too. The real breakthrough though came from the guidance of his ancestor Salazar Slytherin (hadn't that been a surprise, it turned out his mother was no muggleborn after all and could boast an ancestry far more illustrious than what 97% of the magical British upper crust) and following his footsteps in scouring ancient ruins around the globe, even discovering three himself and being one of the first there when the new ones in Peru had been uncovered.

The one that had been instrumental in his success, the one that changed it all was the the ruin his had stumbled upon in pure happenstance literally falling into it in while out on a job for the Unspeakables. There in Persia where the height of magical might had once been, nestled deep under rocks and sands, were ancient caverns covered in tablets of ancient scripts and a well of time sand in quantities never seen before. After thoroughly exploring he did the only thing to do after finding something of this magnitude, he was smart and buried it under a variation of the fidelous so no one else could find it until he breathed his last, by then the world was already fucked up enough without them getting their hands on _that._

There was a time were this project had become an all-consuming obsession and by the time the first atomic bombs were dropped he had the original design done and was ready to leave any day and he would have had that bomb dropped onto a friend and made it personal.

Why wait, one might ask, when he had the intentions and means to go back and prevent the war and undo the deaths?

The answer was simple enough;

Know thy enemy.

He was _so_ done living his life at an disadvantage, he was not going to start his second chance at life the same way.

No longer was he a brash Gryffindor that rushed into things brainlessly with no real plan other than to soldier through and give his all even if it that meant sacrificing his life, like he had been literally groomed to do.

Those days were loooonnng over, he'd learned his lesson and he'd learned it well.

He researched what he decided he needed with a zeal that put a Ravenclaw to shame, planned and maneuvered the world around him like his ancestors blood demanded, pursued ambitions that made his inner Slytherin preen and needed the guts of a true Gryffindor to see them through. After over two centuries he had matured fully into all he could be (Aren't time-dilation chambers truly a wonderful thing?) and he was now a living nightmare to anyone that deserved his wrath. It was a surprisingly enjoyable existence and he looked forward to living up to that legacy in the good old days.

Yet as he changed so did his plans. And so he was forced to adapt the design many times over the years as he had to allow for more and more to take along, it was gradual but the ritual morphed from a half hour ritual of a ten feet diameter for him and a few trinkets alone to a three hour nightmare with epic length chants in three ancient languages of potent magic, life sacrifices and hours of preparation. The huge construct of 30 feet diameter now sprawled out before him was the end result a mixture of geometric forms etched into the ground rimmed by a dry border of dried blood, time-sand and salt set into a latticework of drawn runes.

Galleons of his own blood, collected over the months, were incorporated before him either mixed into the ink or dried, soon the ground would be drenched in the life-blood of many more, that of the willing and that forcefully taken, creating a very potent mix for the heavily underestimated art of blood magic. The real challenge had been to calculate the stars and constellations in a sky that hadn't been seen without distortions for a good fifty years, but where there's a will there's a way.

The whole thing had caused him many headaches and frustrations - yes many things had ended up being thrown against the wall, as after the first few times his capable secretary had confiscated his wand whenever he even approached the subject, that sixth sense of hers was really something to fear. - but now that mattered little as the execution was imminent, every single detail was necessary as part of the whole as the sheer level of magic required to power up this monster was staggering and beyond the reach of any mortal yet Serpentarius still had a ace or two up his sleeve. He had faced worse odds and emerged victorious that didn't mean he wasn't filled with slight trepidation faced with the daunting task of performing a ritual that broke more than one law of the universe especially since the ritual was so damn _long._

Taking up his brush again, Serpentarius dipped it into the potent mixture of blood, ink and time-sand and completed the matrix, and forced his hand into compliance, completing the last few runes wrapped within the lines. Sitting back on his haunches he swept the entire massive structure of lines and runes with a discerning eye, ensuring that there were no imperfections, the matrix consisted of a few basic geometric forms; a large pentagram cut in half by a line that dissected an isosceles triangle that shared the base line with it and stopped at a circle resting within the top corner. At the outside corners of the triangle were two more circles, one the same as the other and connected with an extra line and the other much larger and oval in shape. Around that was a a heptagon that had long slim triangles protruding from it's faces making a seven pointed star, its points piercing two grand circles and resting on the third that encompassed it all and boasted a circumference of 94 feet.

Just looking at it made his hand ache and thank Morgana that he was ambidextrous because runes not only lined every shape but the space in between was also carefully inscripted by his hand for the last _four_ hours as only the main caster could do so since with every brush stroke a trace amount of magic flowed into it linking it to him. It was a good thing not much was expected of him except stand in his designated spot and channel his magic because after this his fine motoric skills were officially on holiday.

He took some vindictive glee in setting that brush alight and watching it burn to ash, the very second he was sure of it's absolute perfection, demonstratively turning his back on that torture devise, rubbing his poor abused tendons. With a nod of gratitude he took the glass of water handed to him, glancing up when a familiar form approached him.

"Master Serpentarius, all have returned from their missions. Unit B through D have secured all resources and followed orders without complication. All are already being transported to the site. Those remaining have relocated everything needed to the beta base Scorpio." Old Richard reported in his gravely voice, his lined face stoic as he continued to list of the statistics and last minute informations that Adelheit had been unavailable for.

"The Lab vermin?"

"Rosnik is bringing them over in an hour to avoid them making a ruckus, we wouldn't want them to die to early of air exposure."

"All is going as planned?"

"To the dot." The man affirmed.

…

"…"

...

"…"

"… That's disconcerting. Something _always_ goes wrong when our plans are running so smoothly. I would be pleased if this. One. Time. that didn't spell disaster." Serpentarius griped after a moment of absolute silence.

Old Richard threw his head back and laughed at that. "Aye, but we always made it through and this time we planned for even the most unlikely; even a 150 foot tsunami coming out of nowhere."

The Organisation leader grimaced, not sharing the hilarity as the words tugged at memories better left forgotten, every beginning was hard but some things one should simply not to have to go through. Unfortunately just because he no longer actively used the Potter name did not mean he was freed from the curse – or was it cursed blessing? – of the Potter Luck.

"That uppity vermin better not count me out just yet, I may be past my expiration date but I've got plenty of fight left in me. My magic is as strong as ever, and I've got the perimeter locked down so tight a fly won't fart without me knowing."

He didn't doubt it for a second; no matter the mans age, he wasn't nicknamed The Moody 2.0 for nothing. Old Richard had all the paranoia, superior skills and persistence that made Moody a Moody, just opposed to the original, he still all his bodyparts though he was mighty jealous of the revolving magical peep eye. Moody never confided in anyone how exactly he made that eye of his, something Old Richard lamented every month on the steam bath day that the female members had enforced and used as an excuse to laze the day away in the hot springs.

"There are no fly's left." Serpentarius deadpanned - anything to get the disturbing mental image of the 132th year old giggling and peaking around a corner trying to see through the steam out of his mind. That old pervert really had no shame. That he himself was spotted and promptly dragged into the midst of the female hoard to be cooed over and tugged in multiple directions at once made the memory all the more traumatizing.

That the same pervert who brought him into that horrid situation had the gall to be in an angry huff the following week had really broken the camels back, Serpentarius felt totally justified sending him on that two week mission into the wilderness for resources with five female teammates who he knew were all due their period – hey do not get any ideas; it was not like he _ever_ wanted to know, _they_ had started that disturbing conversation while he was held captive in the bath.

(Why did woman feel the need to compare their period cycle, was it one of those things only women understood? He didn't have nor _want_ an answer to that, and some things a man didn't have to know thank-you-very-much.)

Old Richard may had left with a beaming smile but it was gone when he came back, Serpentarius almost felt bad when he saw he horrified broken look in the mans eyes as if he'd lost all his innocence.

Well... He brought it upon himself. He shouldn't have thrown a jealousy tantrum over nothing.

"The only good thing the muggles ever managed and it wasn't even intentional." The man muttered.

Serpentarius sighed in agreement, he was going to miss that old grouch and his constant stream of snarky comments (even that perverted side that while often embarrassing to watch was secretly so entertaining in it's epic fails). He was, after all, one of the few that remained from the founding days of Ophiuchus, one of the few that was even older than him and still remembered..

It was with hawk eyes that he watched the tower of trunks being deposited in the largest of the inner three circles contained in the design, which to his dismay had to be done manually so the magical residue wouldn't react volatilely when the ritual started. So help him if they smudged a Single. Line. and he had to redraw the thing... his hands cramped at the mere thought and his aura darkened to pitch black.

Luckily for all involved, the two men were very aware of the two orbs of death boring into their backs and were extra cautious to appease the beast before it was woken. Every movement precise and deliberate, they manually stacked up the trunks in the largest of the three circles and then retreated as fast as they could, scurrying out of sight.

All was set.

With a click of his fingers his clothes disintegrated in a flash of green flames and Serpentarius accepted the silvery grey robes that were handed to him, keeping only the knobbly length of the pale elder wood. The design was very simple; an ankle length Trojan robe with no sleeves, held up by a serpent shaped silver clasp on each shoulder, it was the material that made it so special. Even rarer than acrumantula silk, it was incredible fine and light and depending on the light it was a deep stormy grey or a silvery white, with every move it seemed to flow about his form like water and was cool and silky against his naked skin.

Lifting the hem of his robes, he wove through the intricate lines barefoot until he was in the small circle in the inner northern corner of the pentagram, a clear space of three feet facing the duo of bigger circles opposite, him one laden with packages and trunks the other encircling a familiar lone plushie, making a for a very odd sight. His determined gaze gentled slightly as his gaze settled on the hope for his future, knowing their contents were instrumental for the success of the task he had set himself and the survival of the magical race.

Taking a good look at the skeleton crew that remained of his forces, he watched half of them spread out, wands and staffs at the ready their eyes glinting with the Night-sight charm as their gaze was set upon the horizon, looking for any potential threats and dressed to the nines in armour, while the other half like him were stripped of any metal that was not gold, silver or was of magical origin and dressed in hooded robes ready to assist upon their cue. Sharing significant glances and solemn nods they all took their positions, words were not necessary they had been preparing for this moment for the last three years, all that should be said had already been done.

Serpentarius took a deep breath to settle his nerves. This was it.

Closing his eyes, he felt within himself a dug deep until he found the gigantic orb of emerald green liquid fire, perpetually flowing and revolving about itself slowly, reaching out he opened his connection and let the magic flow through him and then connect to the ritual circle the gold and red igniting in a shimmering green. His magic flowed out and spread into the air the atmosphere warping slightly before his magic settled down upon him like a blanket. He breathed in and out, the runic circle reacted with every breath his magic following every layer slowly spreading until even the furthest circle was lit in green. In and out he breathed, the emerald glow brightening and dimming the magic flaring with every exhale.

Blazing emerald green eyes snapped open and his lips parted and the soft hisses and otherworldly tones of the serpent tongue tumbled from his lips starting out soft and gentle gaining strength as the time stretched on until the runes glowed strongly radiating with magic.

Then his voice was joined by others, , the lyrical tones of the old High Elven and the emerald also changed to a golden glow.

Half an hour later seven figures stepped up, each taking their place at the points of the star and seven voices spoke in tandem as the oldest magical language rang out into the night. A moment later his soft sibilant hisses seamlessly slid into the dulcet otherworldly tones of the ancient tongue of the High Elven, words swift and lyrical they flowed like water from their lips as he took the lead.

The effect was quickly apparent as he green glow morphed into a brilliant gold and the magic built up further rising from the ground and entwining with the air. With every breath they took it filled their lungs and increased further as they exhaled it on the wings of the oldest magical language in existence.

On they chanted in the language once believed long lost and the one always closest to Magick's heart, the smooth rhythmic tones gently drew the magic forth, enticing it from deep under the ground where it had retreated. Their voices increased in volume but never lost it's softness and lyrical quality and with each stanza the magic swelled in the atmosphere more and more, making the debris and rabble around them tremble and being pushed away.

The dulcet otherworldly tones of the ancient tongue shifted as the Seven fell silent and their Master alone continued on, slipping back into hisses drawing the words out as the magic rose off him in a visible aura hanging over his shoulder like a reaper in a cloud of emerald black seeming larger than life, hanging over his shoulders like the reaper. From the closed tent behind the rock formations figures emerged at the unspoken signal each leading several bedraggled humans with blank eyes.

Not one of the surrounding seven could suppress their hatred as the figures were led to them, two for each, but took some sadistic pleasure in seeing the usual pristine white coats stained with dirt and their own blood for a change and not magical of nature. Magic itself seemed to gain a bite at their presence, instinctively rejecting their very being and roiling maliciously as they were stood just outside the confines of the ritual circle, above grooves carefully carved into the stone just for them.

A sharp hiss from the center had all seven black clad magicals draw two silver daggers from the folds of their clothes, the pommel decorated with a large blood red gem. In a swift move fourteen daggers found their mark and fourteen hearts seized as they were shredded, blood red gems throwing a red light about them as they glowed, their own ritual and enchantments complete now, as the each were drenched in the lifeblood of the 55th heart. The moment the daggers pierced the flesh a huge shock-wave of magic was released from all fourteen and raced toward the center of the ritual circle to Master whose aura flared and grabbed and forcefully bundled it, before channeling it through his body and out the elder wand, the powerful beam of magic directed at the dead center of the circle and spearing straight down with a mighty woosh.

The beam of magic seemed to go on forever as it borrowed deeper, the fresh sacrifice of the lifeblood of fourteen enemies joined with that of 756 more strengthening the probe as it pierced the retreated nexus far below the ground they stood on.

All was silent as the waited with abated breath, the trickling of the last blood from the almost bloodless corpses as it was drawn into the grooves the only sound as even the world seemed to have stilled.

Then it came.

With a rush and the power of an erupting volcano magic had granted their plea and awakened from it's disgruntled half slumber, awakening with a mighty joyous roar as it burst to the surface shaking the barren diseased earth.

.

* * *

.

The earth shook , the whole crust bending and breaking under the unleashed primal force, tsunami's springing up from nowhere and clouds whipping into storms, the tremors were so great that even 10 000 miles away in the modern steel and glass structures guarded by the most deadly technology, sending the populace screaming to the floor as their entire city was thrown to and fro as the tremors were followed by another invisible wave that could only caught by their vaunted white lab coated pioneers as a massive tsunami that a moment later fried every single of their prized gadgets. Raised voices were heard as their lights extinguished as bulbs exploded in a shower of glass and spark of electricity.

All they could do was cower as all their defenses were brought down swiftly, their eyes filled with hate as they knew exactly there was only one foe that could be responsible for such calamity, the very creatures that were an affront against God. Finally the tremors subsided and they crawled forth from under their steal tables, blearily gazing through the flickering emergency lights their gazes found their large screen, fixating on the last image that had been burned onto the map, the origin of the attack far up North-West where once Scotland stood.

Rage and greed burned in their eyes.

Finally they had made a mistake.

Finally they knew where the abominations were hiding.

.

* * *

.

Back at the ritual site the magicals had wild grins upon their faces as they reveled in the feel of being surrounded by magic saturated air, that they had succeeded in hooking up the ritual to the power nexus was secondary as their very blood seemed to sing in the presence of their Mother.

All here were among the eldest of their races those that remembered what it was like when magic still flowed freely and was found in everything, silent tears streamed down their cheeks. But none was as effected as their Master whose body was still trembling from the sheer amount of power that had flowed through him, his veins burning at the too potent mix but he didn't care... his senses too drugged by the heady taste of raw magic in the air filling his lungs with every breath and caressing his skin.

But it was _so much more_ than just raw magic, no he could feel it in his bones his senses screaming as he felt the overwhelming presence flow through the magic and turn it's attention to them, could taste the intelligent force direct it and he wanted to laugh as all his beliefs were confirmed. How often had he heard magic was just an energy source for those few privileged; a tool and something to be used. They were blind and deaf!

He'd always knew there was _**more.**_

Now he felt it surround him, sliding feelers over his skin, reaching seeking tendrils to his core, and enter his consciousness. He was no longer alone in his mind and there was nothing he could do he didn't even attempt resisting because he couldn't dredge up the will to, contently he watched as his past flit before his eyes in a single moment.

Saw the flashes of a lonely, desolate childhood, harsh jarring years of schooling the absolute numbing agony of losing the other half of his soul, his travels throughout the entire world seeing the wonders it had to offer and lingering over the beauty magic had accomplished in the most unlikely of places, the many creatures that had been born from Magic's spark, then came the horrible atrocities of the so called light wizards that thought they knew best and ultimately doomed them all, the long long war and all the suffering he had to witness and the family he had managed to build amidst the devastatio, the many lives he had managed to squirrel away... and finally his plans and preparations for tonight.

It's presence so immense there could be no end felt but at the same time concentrated only here yet never losing touch with it's farthest reaches, it was immense, it was overwhelming… how glorious must it have been when Magick was still healthy and spanned the entire earth and not retreated from the surface as it was now. Magick at height must have been the only true force deserving of being termed omnipotent.

Serpentarius didn't need a to contemplate about the existence of an Christian God, _this_ was the only entity that deserved worship and recognition. His body trembled as he felt a deep sense of peace and pure love envelope him, without words he then knew that his intentions had been read, approved and supported, and a huge weight seemed to lift off him. Seamlessly the guilt he harboured in the deep recesses of his mind was washed away, the feeling of helplessness for being unable to prevent the tragedy that had befallen Magick's children was smoothed over as unnecessary and a feeling of gratitude wound around him and images of the work he had done to save as many as he could flitted through his mind and settled on the image of the trunks stacked within the rituals confines.

Entwined with Her as he was, he felt Magick's attention shift and reach out to the items in question, felt the huge swell off power and feel it being directed inward, the magic within increasing exponentially. The treasured stuffed wolf teddy and it's precious cargo was next, it lifted from it's perch and into the air as it was infused with large amounts of raw magic, the hidden expanded cache within swimming with magic as it's small body glowed golden before being set down again. The acute sense of love and gratitude filling him as he understood what had been done, and answered by a gently invisible caress across his face.

Intense heat traveled from his neck down his spine, yet there was no pain, it was more a tingling burn spreading all the way down his spine and splitting off to his limbs. He watched in fascination as his entire skin began to glow in a myriad of gold and silver like the dance of moon and sunlight that had been absent now for so long, and he had so missed. His lungs fluttered as he exhaled a shuddering breath, overwhelmed at the feeling of pure love and acceptance that swept through him, for an orphan that had to fight for survival since the second year of his life it was almost to much.

His breath hitched as he felt the magic reach deep inside him and he was encompaseed by it from all sides for a long endless moment, it was pure bliss and he half suspected he had started floating he felt so light and carefree. Ever so slowly it retreated and accumulated to a single point upon his below his nape, glowing so intensely he was blinded although he was facing the other way.

Then it was gone.

The entity that had been in his mind withdrew but the overwhelming pressure of Magic didn't lessen and it was then that he knew their hopes had been answered; Mother Magick had blessed their intentions and directly their ritual, elevating their chances of success significantly.

Serpentarius glanced at his entranced brethren both within and outside the ritual circle, gifting them with a wild grin that had excitement race down their spines. He made sure to memorise their faces as they were aglow with delight and hope wanting to remember them like that.

With racing hearts their voices rang out agan joined as one, the still magic stirred into motion, deftly being guided into a vortex, picking up momentum at each pass...

The vortex stopped abruptly as if frozen by a stunner before suddenly spinning the opposite direction, swirling anti-clockwise and swiftly picking up momentum. Spinning faster and faster until it became an unstoppable force that affected its surroundings, a powerful wind picked up whipped the dry soil into the air. Overhead the perpetual cover of clouds and chemicals was forcefully ripped apart, scattering the clouds aside and punching a hole into the sky and for the first time in _57 years_ the black of the night sky was seen.

They gasped and stared up in elation as they gazed upon the starry sky, those among them still versed in astrology wept in joy when they saw Ophiuchus surrounded by Serpens dominating the night sky, all their calculations had been correct.

It was like a sign of the gods, their namesake and mirror shining down upon them like a blessing.

With smiles upon their lips they shifted the grips on their daggers and in a swift move slammed the two halves together, two melding into one, now each having two glowing rubies at the hilt and the sharp metal of the blade itself shimmering deadly with red refraction. Upon the final word they raised them high and without the hesitation, seven blades buried into seven magical hearts. Master had to close his eyes as the red light from the daggers became unbearably bright but continued his part of the ritual obstinately, never faltering even as he heard alarmed shouts and the familiar sound droning engines and of rockets launched through the air.

Yet he did not care; they could not stop them now.

An explosion shook the earth where a mile away where the muggle weaponry had been diverted to, swallowing the area in an inferno.

 **.**

 **-)§(-**

 **.**

As soon as the light dimmed, thirteen robed figures stepped up, deep voices droning a Latin chant externally guiding the magic into movement even as the sound of machine guns ripped through the air. They didn't move an inch, trusting their brethren.

As magical and muggle met in one last deadly dance.

Fangs gleaming a figure launched up into the air, his fist smashing through the aircraft's glass and plowing it off course... directly into another as he flipped off it with a mighty push and into the opening of a military helicopter passing by, sinking his fangs easily into the tender flesh off neck despite the vermin's airtight full body suit.

Before the vermin's kin could even point their guns at the feasting Vampire Lord they were ripped apart by his children and Sleeper comrades invading the aircraft with their brooms. Dropping the empty corpse Lord Draven stormed the cockpit and threw the pilot out with a snapped neck and took possession of the machine, his eldest son sliding beside him and taking control of the weaponry, who with a wild laugh started using them against their creators. Their superior supernatural reflexes making them unbeatable and soon the vermin fell from the sky.

Looking down at the young mage, the Vampire Lord could only marvel at the strong magical aura he could feel even this high, joining Master had truly been his best decision the last 400 years, his ruby eyes glittered as he was treated to the full view of the forming of a large lake of blood suspended in mid-air, it was magnificent not only a feast for his old eyes but to his nose, with his sensitivity he could pick out countless flavours and there a prominent guiding force the familiar scent of his children. He was so proud to know it was one of his sons and only daughter among those chosen noble seven.

Draven narrowed his eyes in annoyance as the moment was broken by one insolent jet who slipped past their guard, their missile heading straight towards Master and the thirteen, how dare they! He didn't worry as a moment later the weapon was deflected and veered far off course by the powerful shields, it was the audacity of trying to interfere on this glorious day that had his ancient blood boiling. He would show them!

He swerved and his dutiful son dealt with the impertinent little rat who exploded in a pretty explosion of fiery hell. Fitting.

.

 **-)§(-**

 **.**

Down below...

All gravity seemed to cease to exist, blood droplets rising into the air and hung there like small red pearls as the chanting of the thirteen rang in his ears and the magic fluctuated. first one then two then with increasing speed they evaporated, converting into pure power and lazily joining the accumulating power above.

The magic began pooling above his head the light from the glowing daggers falling upwards almost like a liquid under reverse gravity, the trickles gathering overhead into a floating lake of glowing blood.

The magic fluctuated wildly as that much power strained against it's confines, it was only his iron will and his continuous stream of parseltongue guiding the magic through the correct motions, swirling the invisible force around the circle clockwise that prevented it from exploding in his face. His body trembled and his muscled strained under the pressure as he forcefully subjugated something uncontrollable to his will and reality continuously crumbled and rebuilt around him.

Then he felt it, the long awaited click that closed the loop and he and his thirteen fell silent as the time ceased and the magic stilled.

It was as if the entire ritual had been hit by a stunner.

At the sudden unnatural stillness, every eye turned to the ritual and all fighting ceased as their fates were about to be decided.

The sea of blood and magic above still as a lake on a windless night, the now dimming seven blood red lights like lanterns from the chests of the still standing corpses of dear comrades and the floor lit up an ethereal gold like a beach in the brightest of suns, the lone still breathing wizard a dark and still silhouette amidst it all.

They watched with abated breath as all seemed to hang suspended in time, ironic considering just what they were attempting to accomplish.

For the last time Serpentarius' eyes opened, glowing like two green stars from between sooty lashes, and in the silence they all heard the faint whisper of the activation phrase that left his ruby lips, the soft hiss of the serpent tongue reverberated in the still air.

. l .

" ** _Take us home_** "

..

.

Exactly three hours after he had first stepped foot into the circle, the very last stage had started lasting only a mere twenty seconds.

The instant the last syllable rang out into the silence the blood diamonds in the daggers hilts exploded, torrents of blood pouring forth and arching up like riptides, devouring the static sea of red, swirling about each other combining into one stream containing the lifeblood of 777 souls and the blessing of Mother Magic. It cut through the sky drilling through the atmosphere towards the stars taking all the energy into itself the red changing into the white blue of pure energy. Then it came back, it descended from the heavens in a pure bolt of power with the force of a falling star.

Serpentarius had no moved an inch, the lone living mage stared up in the sky his brilliant eyes a beacon as he spread his arms, the air shuddering as It came closer and closer.

They were all so fixated on the spectacle they did not notice one stunned muggle soldier shake off his stupor and aim a ground missile-launcher at their Master his expression twisted into a grimace of hatred. There was a panicked shout as at the sounded and the sabotage was noticed one second to late, the soldier was viciously decapitated with a spell but the missile was already approaching clash of Mage and Magick...

It hit in a massive explosion of stone, fire and smoke and they were all flung back like rag-dolls by the pressure as the shock-wave hit and the earth shuddered and moaned.

Desperately they picked themselves of the ground and stared at the ritual site eyes straining to see through the shifting smoke, a blast of conjured wind revealing charred stone but nothing else.

Realisation set in and whoops of joy were heard as the pent up tension was released.

In the middle of nowhere, amidst bloodshed and fiery flames, standing upon lifeless rock the last resistance of magicals, the feared black clad members of Ophiuchus laughed and twirled in jubilation.

They had succeeded.

* * *

 ** _Ta-Da! I'm finally done with future!_**

 ** _Writing this I felt very very sorry for Harry here, chanting for nearly three hours almost non-stop! His poor throat and imagine having to memorise all that! Still considering the number of laws he's supposed to break with this I thought the number of daunting requirements were appropriate._**

 ** _So this was it for the Part One the next chapters are all set in the Harry Potter timeline._**

 ** _What did you think of the ritual?  
And just where and WHEN do you think he will see our favourite green-eyed wizard again?_**


	8. 1 A Sleepless Night For Mommy and Daddy

_**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, all credit goes to JK Rowling.**_

* * *

 **Part 2:**

A Sleepless Night For Mummy and Daddy

Who was he? what was he? what was happening to him ? now he remembered is mission. He couldn't tell where he was or how long he was where he was nor was he even sure if he was actually moving or not. It was not that he was flying down a a tunnel with scenes long gone by as fiction had depicted it was like in the time stream. He simply was, there and formless... and suddenly he seemed to collide with a very hard surface and he felt himself compressed into a far too small space.

It wasn't working there was too little and he was simply too much, but the force exerted on him didn't let up, he could feel memories and emotions spill and try assemble and spread into the only given space, yet was rejected and forced back out each time until the force exerted itself again and compressed him further forcing the unwanted impressions on the other half.

That cycle seemed to repeat endlessly as Harry frantically applied every bit of occlumency he learned in his life to try ease the process anything to make it hurt less. But it was no use, he may have become very proficient in the mind arts later in his life but right now it didn't feel like it. He was stumbling and scrambling around just as frantically as during those desperate torture sessions with Snape long passed, back in his fifth year. It was pain, it was agony, he was suffocating..

He just prayed it would stop!

He had lungs! Sucking in the much needed oxygen in the suddenly starved lung, he exhaled it as quick as he received it voicing his excruciating pain to the world.

* * *

Wales

Potter Manor

31st July 1981

03:01

.

An agonized scream echoed through the big Manor, the sound jarring and heartbreaking in it's intensity and young quality, startling the young couple slumbering in the big bed awake instantly. The red headed beauty felt like her heart would stop, recognising that voice instantly contorted in agony as she never wished to hear it. Her baby!

 _'Had death eaters attacked and gotten into their home? How had they broken through the wards with either of them noticing?_ ' were her panic stricken, frantic thoughts, her heart pounding with such terror that her entire body trembled and she couldn't move. There was a thump to the side and all she saw was a naked back as her husband was already across the room, wrenching the door open and down the hall in the time it took him to grab his glasses and wand from the bedside table.

Fury beat through him and powered his sprint as he streaked down the hall stark naked, his eyes were wide behind the glass, daring any black robed figure to enter his sight, as he reached the door and stormed into his sons nursery a curse ready on his lips and wand-tip glowing ominously.

All his senses were on high alert, his Auror training at the forefront of his mind, if there was a threat he would find and destroy it after he found out how it entered his home and got past the wards without alerting him.

But he saw nothing all was still and silent, all as it should be and he had left it six hours ago when he put his reluctant boy to bed after he had finally fallen asleep. He didn't relax, he knew what he'd heard...

Suddenly the light filled the room as the lamp was switched on.

He spun around wand raised, when he felt another presence enter the room and was met with frantic green eyes. He breathed a sigh of relief and moved aside though his grip on his wand never once wavered as he scanned the room more thoroughly.

"Mildry, Archter." There were two pops as the nanny elf and head elf appeared into the room standing before him at attention. "Did anyone enter the room at any time this night?"

"No Master James!" they chorused

"Did anyone enter the grounds or disturb the wards in any way?"

"No Master James, theres bees no intrusion" Archter answered primly drawing himself up to his full height of 3 foot 10.

"Little Master Harry bees sleeping since last nappy change at eleven twenty, Master James."

James relaxed marginally but couldn't help ask once more, "So there was nothing unusual at all?"

"Elves be feeling strong magic. No, no spell magic not from wizardsies, Magic from air and deep earth, Magick being angry!" they looked out of the window to see leaves tossed around as strong howling winds harshly ripped them from the trees, clouds quickly covering the stars. It seemed like an storm had been blown in from the sea, he could hear the waves crashing against the cliffs now that he calmed down.

"I want you to ensure that everything his secured so there will be no damages, all windows closed and the storm fortification runes activated."

The two elves bowed and popped away.

James turned to his wife who was now cradling her son gently in her arms, her wand out as she ran one diagnosis spell after the other and gave him a resolute nod after catching his eye. His Prongslet was fine and by the looks of it already asleep again, James let his tension dissipate.

He hoped Dumbledore faced You-Know-Who soon, this war wasn't good for his heart.

-)§(-

Half an hour later the couple was laying in their large fluffy bed with a mattress that was perfect not too soft not too hard with soft feathered pillows and silk sheets, it was a luxurious dream but the charm was lost on the two. Both were staring up at the ceiling wide awake.

James Potter lived his whole life in this Manor, it being the ancestral seat of the Potter family, yet he had never felt magic as strange as it did this night in his son's nursery. Sleep came hard to him as he later laid in his bed and pondered on it.

Lily's mind was still on the reads her diagnosis charm had shown her, she'd never seen such surging fluctuations in someones magic, though she doubted anyone had tested it on babies before as intrusive magic was usually kept away from magical infants so no one would know if it was normal or not. She was not about to repeat it and risk harming her son just for that knowledge; despite her calling, her family was always and _will_ always be her first priority.

"It's his birthday, maybe it's a growth spurt." James suggested after a moment after she shared her concerns.

"It's too soon for that, the earliest I know of is at three or is this another of these things Purebloods do not tell those of _lesser_ blood."

"No, it's true. Normally the first spurt is at three although the first _recognised_ one is at five. But he's our son, our little miracle." James added with a proud grin.

Despite the words, it was long before they did drift off into a fitful sleep.

-)§(-

04:21

A lone figure walked the halls of the darkened manor taking care to keep the trek silent, their wand was always at the ready on the lookout for any sign of trouble. Outside the wind howled with ferocity that Britain hadn't seen in decades, and every now and then the sharp light of lightning cut through the night and threw the halls in sharp relief in it's stark light, the deep rumble of thunder always quick to follow. Another of those flashed lit the room as lightning streaked across the sky, as the figure entered and with the flick of his wand the lamps turned on and a ball of fire was sent into the fireplace revealing the room to be lined with bookshelves and a great study desk and two leather armchairs at the fireplace.

Five minutes later found one James Potter sitting at the fire, glass of whisky in hand as he stared at the flames a tome from the shelves in his lap. Sleep evaded him although the adrenalin had long faded from his system, and he's had a close look at the wards himself already; nothing would get in tonight. No this agitation had a different source.

He could not rest in this strange atmosphere that prevailed in the house, it didn't belong...

He couldn't get the house elves words out of his head that elf had been head elf since his fathers childhood he was not prone to exaggerations and that worried him. All of them were behaving weirdly, when he went to the kitchens to get himself a late-night snack after gave up on falling asleep again, he saw all of them locked in their small sized rooms only glancing out through cracks in the door looking relieved when he didn't call upon them. They were almost cowering as if afraid of something.

He didn't like it.

It was affecting his Prongslet too, every now and then he could hear his small son whimper in his sleep but he thankfully never woke again screaming.

He didn't know what was wrong tonight but he would find out especially with how it was affecting his son. It was simply not tolerable.

-)§(-

Pain. Pain. Agonising PAIN!

His entire small body shuddered as his muscles twitched in a pain that was not physical but could not be expressed otherwise as his very soul shuddered as it suddenly swelled and found itself doubled in size as the young bright soul was mixed with a far darker mature one bringing with it it's complexities and it's burdens.

Harry screamed out as intense pain speared through his skull, images whirled in his mind as over two hundreds worth of memories and experiences clashed with the young tender one of an almost one year old. The developing brain was put under severe duress at the sudden influx of information and unused complex thought patterns, forcing it to warp and expand in unnatural ways to adapt. The brain of a muggle would have imploded by now, the pressure too much... but Harry was no muggle.

Even at such a young age his body was brimming with magic, magic that rose to the fore and reacted instantly, breaking down damaged tissue and burnt synapses and rebuilding them stronger and more durable than before. That cycle continued on and on in a seemingly endless loop as Harry lost track of time, it was worse than the Dark Lords and Bellatrix's cruciatius combined.

Compared to the terrible wrenching in his entire being it was nothing.

But what did one expect from the forceful fusion of two souls - whole complete souls at that. It didn't matter that they were essentially the same a body was made for one soul not two so magic and nature forced to correct that flaw fortunately his body was so young and adaptable but because it was so young it was still to weak to carry that burden and stress, it was a unfortunate paradox.

It was excruciating and locked his muscles in place and nary a sound escaped him even as he mentally shrieked in agony his lungs heaving desperately trying to get in enough fresh air as his lungs cramped. His mind was completely muddled, his thoughts scrambled from pain, he could have been alone in a desert, in the middle of the throng at a rock concert or on a snow capped mountain he wouldn't have been able to tell you the difference. All his senses were wrapped around his new body that was seemed far too small, fragile and unresponsive.

If he'd had to guess he would have guessed he's been dropped in lava, as his entire being seemed to burn...

Then it was over.

After aeons of nothing but agony, the pain receded to a dull ache that throbbed in his temples at every heart beat, but after the torment experienced moments before it hardly registered at all. His world expanding once more from just himself to the world around him as he became aware of the surroundings, his senses returning to him one by one.

First he heard was a shrill scream that had him cringing as the high-pitched sound assaulted his newly re-established hearing. His poor ears, this was not he welcome he'd expected. It was mercifully cut off abruptly as he noticed the vibrations in his throat meaning he had been the source of it.

 _Oh that was me_...

Joy. There was absolutely no chance that anyone had overheard _that,_ he didn't feel ready yet to face anyone, he couldn't even get his eyes to work...

as if to prove him right in the sudden silence he could now hear the approaching hurried footsteps. No he wasn't ready yet, he still had problems stringing thoughts together – his parents! he was not ready to see them yet! He couldn't! His eyes didn't even work yet! - but it's not like he had any choice even he realised that as messed up as he was.

Amidst his panic and not cognizant it was vocalised in the form of wails and whines, he almost missed the sound of the door being flung open. And for the first time Harry heard the voice of his father, it was different from the pale imitation of his spirit in the graveyard or that wonderful bit of manipulation Dumbledore had managed to wrought with the resurrection stone. It was deeper, rich and seemed to rumble in his chest before leaving his lips, Harry was fascinated.

It took long moments for him to notice he had been picked up his small back patted in comfort, it was then that he noticed he was crying he heard soft soothing words directed at him, but was too befuddled to even try to make sense of them, not when he was lost in the dulcet tones of his mothers voice, enjoying every vowel and consonant; undistorted by desperation and fear, her voice possessed a tinkling beauty that had been absent in his nightmares.

His grip tightened in the fabric of his mothers nightshirt, his mother's… he had a mom.

Tears anew streamed down his already wet chubby cheeks, and Lily Potter shushed him and gently rocked him in an attempt to calm him down. She glanced at her husband who was still scrutinizing the room, gaze sharp despite it's dark circles it landed on the closet by the wall, looking at it as if he expected a monster to jump out and frighten his baby boy.

"Oh James put that wand away! I don't want anymore accidents or furniture on fire." James lowered his wand, albeit reluctantly. That closet looked far too innocent, he knew from his prankster heydays that all that _looked_ innocent, _wasn't_.

" _James_."

An indignant noise worked itself out of James' throat, "But Lils I told you that wasn't my fault. Padfoot snuck inside and leapt out from behind the couch with a yell, my seasoned Auror reflexes just reacted."

His wife gave him a flat look. "By setting the couch on fire?"

James looked away sheepishly rubbing the back of his head as his wife arched her eyebrow at his lack of answer, grumbling under his breath. He suddenly fixed his attention on his little bundle of joy. "How's my little Prongslet?"

"Just a small bump. I'll take care of it in seconds." and true to her words Harry felt her fingers graze a sore spot at the back of skull the intently listening one year old hadn't even noticed yet.

"Come here young man so your mommy can fix you up, she's good at that. Only one and already giving your parents heart attacks." James chuckled, forgetting his exhaustion looking into his sons's big green eyes so like his Lily's. "You're going to enjoy Hogwarts, pranking teachers, quidditch, all the possibilities for mischief..."

"He can barely walk and you're already filling his head with nonsense." Lily sighed, healing the bump with a quick nonverbal spell. "There all done."

The reprimand went right over the proud daddy's head, too busy was he staring into his sons cute face.

On the freshly freshly babyfied son's part, he was having trouble staying awake besides his best efforts. Parent's he had parents who so obviously loved him, there was no time for sleep he wanted to watch them so more, but in the end he was betrayed by his young body and barely a few minutes later his heavy eyelids slid closed and refused to lift again.

 **-)§(-**

Serpentarius awoke deeply uncomftable.

There was no other way to phrase it. His body ached and was sluggish refusing to move as he wanted, his every move coming out jerky and foreign. Something how his eyes saw the environment was just _wrong,_ and his head felt too heavy and like it was currently host to gnomes drilling into his skull and his thoughts were a mess. In short he felt as if he was too big to fit into his body, like one wrong move and he would rip at the seams and **boom.**

He took note of his surroundings the high wooden bars of a crib a big darkened room that was slowly lightening with the dawn allowing him to see his the shapes dangling above him to be a crib mobile of dangling stags and deer. He stared at the lazily rotating figurines for a long moment before he realised what this actually meant; Success!

He had done it! The tension in his new small body drained and his eyes drooped. He was back and they wouldn't know what hit them… before he could formulate any more thoughts his exhausted brain was already pulled under and he sunk into the arms of a persistent Morpheus.

 **-)§(-**

The next time his eyes opened he was met with a vision of green and deep red, it was still dark but there was more light present and it set red tresses in a a fascinating display of fiery red and burgundy all he could do was stare his mouth forming an 'o'.

"Wakey wakey, my Harry it's time for your milk." Lily said with a delighted smile stretching her lips catching his reaching hand in a big gentle one of hers that he hadn't even realised had tangled into her hair.

 **-** The following has been censored due to a 100+ year old man, suddenly being confronted by his mother's nipple and his instantaneous involuntary reaction-

Lily set her asleep son back down and lovingly covered him with his little blanket, having checked his nappies and found them dry, magical nappies must be one of the most genius inventions ever, especially those that not only magicked away the fluids but had the mercy of odour suppressing charms once opened. Glancing at the cute clock upon the wall she noted that it would be sunrise in about just ten minutes, she was glad to have this night nearly over, it must have been the tensest since Harry was born and she had to wait for James alone at home knowing he was on a raid. It was the last she allowed him, before she put her foot down, he was a father now and she would not be made a widow so soon, Lord of the Light or not Dumbledore was no longer their headmaster and it was their choice if and when they fought and she had other priorities now.

Thank Merlin a look at her cute son's face had made all of James' protests crumble into nothing; stubborn as a mule he may be, but he was a sucker for big green eyes and now they were twice as effective as there were two pairs of them. She may have been a in the house of red and gold but the hat had considered both Slytherin and Ravenclaw, it had been her own stubborn streak that had made her eligible for Gryffindor.

They were so lucky that she had the presence of mind to set the party after noon and not in the morning, from how this was looking there wasn't going to be much of a morning. Lily suppressed a yawn and ambled back to the Master bedroom, hopefully she would be able to sleep now that the storm had also let up a little.

Now where did that husband of hers get to? After that first fright he had barely been in bed... she really wouldn't be surprised if he was patrolling the corridors, she'd leave that to him, she had enough of that from her Prefect days.

Well he could indulge to his hearts content. She was going to sleep there was a pillow with her her name on it and she intended to bury her face in it until she had to get up, tomorrow - or rather the rest of the day - would be long and trying enough without adding exhaustion to it. So she did just that, thanking Magic for the existence of house elves.

* * *

 **So here it is first Chapter of Part 2: The Past.**

 **James and Lily might not have been so happy about it but I was glad to get a crack at writing them. Let's see how our fearless leader and hero will handle being back in chibi form...**

 **Review and tell me what you think.**


	9. 2 Of Names and Birthdays

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

 **Review answer corner:**

 **One Punch Saitama + Vladimir Mithrander: _Don't worry Harry has no MPD nor is he suddenly a genius, I wrote it this way to showcase how Serpentarius/Harry is able to maintain his self as a normal brain of a 1 year old - magical or not - is incapable of so much focus and memory capacity, it's why we do not remember our earlier years. For him to retain his adult mind and memories at least partially he needs more than just innate magic. Nor was the process easy. I wanted to show that. No super brain, no split personalities._**

 **VeltaIO: _Oh you flatterer. Are you trying to get in my pants because I gotta tell you it worked. Reading your review had me honest to god squealing. Embarrassing I know lol but I couldn't help it! I put_ a lot _of thought behind the future arc, it was never supposed to be that long - I don't blame you for skimming I'd probably done the same as eager as I am for the juicy bits -_-" - but I couldn't just cut anything out as you are right and we_ will _see the agents of the tower again. Harry spent decades building up his Organisation do you really think he was going to just leave them behind? He knows exactly what the future looks like so he's thinking big. It will be a little while though before he releases them to unleash their brand of chaos no matter how eager they are._**

 ** _As for active changes in cannon; Harry will try his best but he's a toddler, so his interference will be small at the start but will snowball as he grows. No one said Harry couldn't be a manipulative little shit too. lol_**

 ** _Though I can say I'm altering cannon a bit with background info and manipulations that could fit into cannon because it was never shown or mentioned. One detail I changed for sure is Dorea and Charlus Potter being James' parents I now know it was actually Fleaumont Potter but by the time that it was revealed I'd read so much fanfiction that Dorea being Harry's grandmother had already become an unshakable fact in my mind. I kinda like James being half Black, what with his overwhelming talent in transfiguration, it makes sense. And the Black Family is just plain awesome._**

 ** _As for the identity of 'Lord Grandfather' and Mystery Sleeper you'll all have to wait and see, but I'm always curious what you guys come up with._**

* * *

 **Of Names and Birthdays**

 **31st July 1981**

 **Potter Manor, Wales**

 **.**

Hair done up carefully and dressed in freshly pressed robes in gold and green, Lily stood in her sons nursery and was just finishing dressing her son in the cute lion onesie Remus had brought over last time, she had been saving it for the best occasion and today was too good to pass it up. With his dark hair so wild and messy and showing all symptoms of the infamous Potter hair, already so much like his daddy's, Harry's hair truly resembled a mane and so fit perfectly, the soft curved ears affixed to the hood and bushy tail were almost too much and gave her camera a real work-out. James was going to love this. Looking at the mini-James, she idly wondered if James ever wore such cute onesies, Dorea hadn't seemed the type but still... she'd have to ask the house elves the potential blackmail opportunity was too good to pass up.

Grinning at her son, Lily lifted him into her arms feeling more awake and better yet; like an actual human being again, after that long hot shower, she even looked it upon a closer look, even if she had to resort to subtle glamours to cover up her eye-bags.

She has had a quick brunch, Harry had his fill of milk, had a fresh nappy, the decorations were mostly done and the houselves had ventured out into the manor again and had resumed their duties and were cranking out one party snack after the other... all was about set for the guests to arrive.

Now if she only knew where her husband had gotten off to...

She could ask the house elves but she was loath to actually call them so late at night or rather so early in the morning and as opposed to usual she had yet to spot a single one in the halls, usually she always saw at least one happily polishing away in some corner. So peculiar.

Since there were no alternatives forthcoming and the paintings of her in-laws were being particularly unhelpful she withdrew her wand and cast a locating charm jumping when it led straight back into the room she just came from. The nursery.

Narrowing her eyes she strode back in her son still positioned on her hip. Like she thought flimsy white curtains chest filled with plushies and toys a dresser the crib and baby changing unit... no husband to be seen, but her spell wasn't wrong. Her eyes narrowed on the closed closet doors... he better not have taken up vigil in there - she should never have told him about the muggle children superstitions about monsters in the closet, he had already gone overboard with the anti-boggart spells.

Wrenching the door open she was relived to find no husband staring back at her, but the sudden noise resulted in a startled faint snore. Looking down at the curious emerald eyes of her son, who was looking around now for his Daddy too, Lily narrowed her eyes. Listening closely, she turned to the corner of the room to the deep blue arm chair with its cyan cushions, staring at the dubious depression on it's surface suspiciously. Setting her son down into the crib she grabbed her camera off the dresser (always within reach and ready to capture a cute picture of her little Harry) and approached on silent feet. Finger at the ready she shot a ' _finite incantatem_ ' and saw the the not so vigilant form of her husband head tilted back in sleep, glasses askew, mouth hanging open and wand in hand appearing from beneath the disillusionment charm as it was ripped away. The picture was equally parts exasperating and cute. Deciding to let James get the rest he seriously seemed to need, when her coming into the room hadn't even stirred him at all, she put her camera away after another quick shot and turned back to Harry who was watching her with his big green eyes blinking through the bars.

"Don't you have a silly daddy, Harry?" she shook her head, smiling at the gurgle she got in response.

 **-)§(-**

Now, Serpentarius _knew_ magical babies were generally more advanced than a muggle baby could ever hope to be - this once he was unbiased in saying that a magical baby was superior to their muggle counterparts in _every_ way - so he wasn't surprised when his mother - it still sent a thrill through him to be able to say so! _His **Mother**_... - put him in his high chair and set down a small wooden plate before him and handed him a soft wooden spoon and then started commandeering a small army of house elves. He didn't mean the material of his cutlery (Wizards did not believe in muggle made materials such as plastic) but she did the unforgivable and left a toddler alone with food, a one year old to be exact. Such an act would have caused an outrage in the muggle world, but was perfectly acceptable in the Magical World as; firstly, he was not alone, while he could not _see_ them he could clearly feel the eyes on him and his bet was on Mildry - from her enthusiastic waxing in the future, she had cared for him since the day he was born and had done so to his father before him - and secondly; a magical toddler was well capable of shoveling food into their mouth without choking.

His only problem was he was in no way used to his body yet and was endlessly frustrated by the slow awkward responses of his limbs, so his breakfast/lunch was slow going as he carefully dipped his spoon in the gruel and shakily lifted it to his small mouth. He must have done well enough as he was soon rewarded with small dices of honey melon.

He was content to nibble his food while watching his mother storm in and out of the breakfast room, and staring out the huge glass window to the rain pelting outside and the clouds roiled above, listening to the soft symphony of pitter-patter as the drops hit the pane. Yes that was an British summer and he was infinitely fascinated in seeing the pure _**life**_ that was everywhere, delighting in every small gap in the clouds that showed glimpses of the brilliant blue sky.

 **-)§(-**

An hour later found the young Potter heir sitting in his flay pen surrounded by toys, as his mum pacing the length of the parlour, muttering darkly under her breath about impertinent late guests not even appreciating her hard work since they were not here.

Yeah.. he was not dealing with that. He had a dad to deal with irate females, he was just the cute little darling son that could do no wrong, especially on his big day... yes, you could bet your arse, he was going to exploit that for all it was worth, but later... when he was in full use of all his limbs.

He was now entertaining himself with rolling and crawling around and working up his nerve to get up on those two unsteady legs.

Ignoring the multitude of toys and instead crawled over to the large golden framed, floor length mirror and examined his new body closely. He had to admit now the excessive cooing from both his parents and any passing house elf made sense; he was cute as a button. With smooth plump cheeks tinted apple red from his exertion, small pouty mouth and the hints of aristocratic cheek bones and jaw made him a beautiful baby coupling that with a cute button nose and downy soft black hair that went ever which way he had a fluffy look about him the final nail on the coffin of any resistance were his eyes; sparkling emerald orbs that seemed to take up half of his face peeked up from under a ebony fringe.

Forget Snow White, it should be illegal for someone in diapers to have such an allure.

He wasn't ashamed to admit that at the first glimpse at the mirror, a coo had escaped his lips before he realised it was himself he was seeing. He was just so glad that his crazy minions where not here to see him like this; he didn't think he would survive the encounter, especially if Hilda got her paws on him, then his parents - or anyone else for that matter - wouldn't see him until he hit puberty.

He would never live it down.

Even aside from the kidnapping risk, it put him in a right pickle; calling himself Serpentarius in that teeny-tiny elfine body was ridiculous.

Serpentarius was a powerful man that had untold seductive power at the tips of his fingers and was capable of seducing and terrifying those in his surroundings simultaneously with a single glance, he was Master of the strongest organisation in existence, war veteran and genius behind the most terrifying concocted poisons and acids.

Serpentarius was the name of a living legend... not someone who wasn't even master of his own bowels and needed assistance keeping himself clean.

While that man might have a chance of rising again in the future, that look at his reflection made one thing perfectly clear; he could not - by all that was holy - _be_ Serpentarius in a dainty body that looked like the worse it could do was give you caries unless he wanted his enemies to laugh themselves to death. That was not him.

He needed a new name.

"Harry?"

His heart fluttered in his tiny chest, and he turned to see his mum smiling softly down at him before crouching and gathering him up in her warm embrace, cuddling him to her soft chest and dropping a kiss upon his crown.

Well it wasn't _too_ bad he supposed. It did have a nice ring to it when his mum said it. He could bear being Harry again as long as that meant he would hear his mother calling his name more often. It sounded so nice from her lips.

 **-)§(-**

"Yes! My little Prongslet's first birthday party!" James exclaimed and scooping his son up and twirling around the room.

"You _do_ realise he has a name?" Lily remarked dryly, not surprised at all when she was ignored in favour of the birthday boy, it was doubtful James even heard her as engrossed as he was in their game, James continued playing with a giggling Harry, delighting in making him squeal.

Sighing Lily looked at the big grandfather clock again and noticed that it was already past two, half an hour past the allocated time. Her fist clenched as her infamous temper reared it's head, they better have a good explanation for their tardiness, she would let nothing ruin her darling son's first birthday. It was for that reason she kept a tight hold on her temper, restraining herself to dark muttering and taking care to censure her words in the presence of the young impressionable ears.

She just didn't understand this. Sure in the muggle world a storm such as this, would have seen a party cancelled but here in the magical world where transportation didn't rely on streets or actually stepping a foot out in the open there was no excuse. Even if it was just to cancel "I get why they didn't send owls in this weather if they wanted to cancel, but

"Ah."

Lily pinned her husband with a penetrating stare as he unobtrusively tried to make way out of the room after that sound of startled realisation. She could smell the guilt from across the room with her senses of seven years in the same house as the Marauders and two years married to one. That green eyes glare framed by crimson was a formidable one and James wanted to keep sharing the bed with his wife so he reluctantly shared his less than stellar actions.

I might have calibrated the wards last night, from war settings to full lockdown. And I might have forgotten to change them back this morning."

"You _might_?"

He nodded. "Yes, might."

"Meaning?"

"Even if they tried sending an owl after hours of futilely trying to enter via the floo network we wouldn't know because nothing gets through the wards. Unless You-Know-Who and an army of Death Eaters stood outside battering against the wards nothing would."

Lily softened. "Good to know." She rewarded her husband with a kiss, it was wonderful to have a man so intent on his family's well-being.

A second later James gulped at the murderous look his Lily-flower sent him, he knew her reaction was too mild to be true. "Now go and put them back to normal." she ordered sternly. She did _not_ labour and plan for her sons first birthday party to have it all go to waste.

"Yes my Lady!" James saluted and strode out of the room a grin upon his lips.

Once the guests had the option to actually _arrive,_ the party was soon in full swing and adults were milling around he Manors lower level. There were a lot of people but thankfully less than he had feared he was still fascinated by the amount of people his parents knew even if it mostly felt like a meeting of the order of the pheonix who insisted to surround them constantly. Oh if he only had his real body...he would have been able to use his long legs to run away

birthdays as a toddler filled with adults was in one word; boring.

After ten more minutes of it he amended that to very disturbing and uncomfortable with a never-to-be-repeated and avoid-at-all-costs labels. Being a cute toddler had it's downside it seemed as everybody and their grandmother - _especially_ their grandmother - felt the need grab at him and pinch his cheeks. Why?! What did his poor cheeks ever do to them?

They might be a bit chubby with baby fat but that was no reason for abuse. He had just discovered that dimple on his left cheek, he would like to keep it thank-you-very-much.

The only other child he knew was Neville, but he only caught a glimpse of him all he saw was chubby cheek and tuft of dark blond hair as he slept in his Mothers arms, both Longbottoms keeping him close at all times. Thankfully the Weasley horde stayed home except Ginny, who was touted around by Molly who had yet to shut up about the miracle of the first female Weasley born in eight generations. For some reason James bristled at her very presence and thankfully kept him far out of reach of the red heads.

It was boring. He intellectually knew who they were recognising them from his research into the Order of Phoenix past as well as his parents social circle, but seeing the living breathing talking versions was a bit jarring. Especially as he knew some wouldn't even last to see the leaves turn red, like the McKinnons that were gathered at the buffet talking to who he identified as a younger Amelia Bones after a bit of squinting.

Then he came in.

For nothing in the world would he have been able to stop his reaction, as soon as the sight registered in his mind, Harry squealed small arms reaching out to the man instantly and if he hadn't been held securely in his mothers arms he would have pitched forward as his body leant forward.

There he was, wavy black hair stormy eyes that twinkled with happiness and mishief that before he'd only seen small glimpses of but was now so apparent that it made his heart lurch. It was Sirius. Despite his later hoarding, the photographs/pictures did him no justice, they paled compared to the real thing

If he'd thought it was heart wrenching to see his parents again, alive happy and fully solid, it was nothing like the punch in the gut when he saw his godfather for the first time in the flesh after his last glimpse of his shocked face as he disappeared through the Viel.

He couldn't have stopped his reaction if he wanted, his entire focus shifting entirely on the lopsided grin that formed once stormy dancing ones met his own green ones.

"Pa'foo', Pa'foo', Pa'foo'!" Harry babbled not letting his lethargic infantile tongue stop him as he desperately strained his small arms wanting to touch his godfather, feel the warmth and rushing of blood under skin to affirm that he was real, was there, was _Alive_.

Lily struggled at her sons sudden eagerness, slightly overwhelmed at her contently lethargic son turning into a wriggling wildcat in the blink of an eye and doing his lion onesie proud.

The next moment Harry was free and he felt the rush of air before he collided into a solid chest, where arms automatically embraced him in reflex, kicking his small feet he scrambled until he had his chubby arms wrapped around his neck and his form half hidden by thick shoulder length hair as he pressed his face in the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply while he held on with all the meagre strength his small body could muster. Taking a deep whiff of a scent he had almost completely forgotten, he felt his throat close as his pint-sized body swelled with a barrage of complex feelings causing it to shudder slightly, there was only one person who smelled like this.

The chest underneath him rumbled and a fond chuckle was heard.

"Hello pup. Miss me?" Four simple words had never sounded so wonderful before.

James looked gobsmacked from his wife to his laughing best friend, repeating the circle a few times until he processed what he'd just seen, unable to utter a single word. His wife didn't share the problem. "Did my baby just fly through the room?" Lily asked confused staring at her suddenly empty arms, a hint of steel creeping into her voice at the end.

Sirius barked a laugh that had Harry's chest clench in chocked emotions, as he heard it rumble through his chest then burst free, it was so light and full of mirth, possessing a carefree quality that in the future had been missing.

Unconsciously his grip around Sirius tightened, staring up into those trademark stormy eyes of the Black's alight with a spark of mischievous happiness, he renewed his vow once more; this time he would ensure it wasn't lost. This time he would make sure Sirius wasn't wronged on the accounts of one greedy manipulative old goat.

He will show the world what happened if you touched his precious people, they will see what happens if you dared invoke Serpentarius' wrath, he may be just a toddler named Harry right now but he was still and always will be Sirius' godson, a godson that would use every ounce of his superior intellect and resources at his fingertips to ensure his dogfathers well-being.

May Merlin have mercy on them because he would not. He had a long memory and he wouldn't always stay this small.

But for now, he blissfully relaxed for the first time since the hell under the misnomer of party started and his personal space was invaded for the first time. He snuggled further into the warm embrace, breathing in deeply the familiar complex scent of expensive cologne, fire-whiskey and fur that was just so Sirius, inhaling it with relish.

In the background his father and those others that saw sputtered at that powerful sign of accidental magic. Harry only had ears for Padfoot's infectious laugh, unable to resist the innate joy and joined in.

"That's my pup! It just proves I'm the best godfather of all!" Sirius struck a pose one arm securely supporting Harry even as he laughed gleefully, Harry's tinkling giggles following closely behind, as small fists clenched tightly in black wavy curls.

* * *

 _ **Here the second chapter with Harry and his parents also the first glimpse of our favourite Marauder the one and only Sirius Black.**_

 _ **Hope you enjoyed it.**_

 _ **Review Please**_


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